


Individuality

by DPPatricks



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 23:08:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14091717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DPPatricks/pseuds/DPPatricks
Summary: Years in the future, this is an AU story with some of the usual Cast of Characters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My sincere thanks to Spencer5460 and Wightfaerie for the betas.

It was late, the day shift had left, the night shift had checked in and was already out on assignments. Dave Starsky was tired and wanted to go home. It had been a grueling couple of weeks and he needed the upcoming weekend off. Just plain _off_! With the successful closing of the Martin case, the captain had promised that he and his partner, Ken Hutchinson, would have from tonight ‘til Monday morning to themselves, barring earthquake or other major calamity, of course, and Starsky couldn’t wait. He turned away from the file cabinet, ready to drag said partner out for a beer and burger before they headed for their respective apartments.

Hutch must have had other things on his mind though, because he walked to the control panel on the wall next to the double doors and activated the speakers. Instantly, communications from Central Dispatch, and all the patrol units and detective cars on the frequency, blared loudly. Without lowering the volume, he moved to his desk and sat down. 

Whenever his other half did something like that Starsky knew it was time to pay attention.

“What year were you born, Starsk?” Hutch’s tone was flat, the voice level below that of the radio chatter.

“Same as you, dummy. Nineteen forty-three.”

“And what year is it now?”

“You know as well as I do it’s twen… Wait!… What the _hell_?” He glanced quickly at the calendar. “It’s twenty-thirty-three!”

Hutch nodded, never taking his eyes off him. “I don’t feel like I’m ten birthdays away from hitting the century mark. Do you?”

“Shit no!” Glancing around, Starsky lowered his voice, glad that no one had heard his shout. “I feel like we aren’t even forty yet!”

“Exactly! So what’s going on?”

The fact that there was no one around who could have overheard the last few sentences pleased Starsky a whole lot because his legs suddenly wouldn’t support him. He practically fell onto his desk chair. 

Hutch’s stare bored to the back of his skull. “What do you remember?”

Starsky took the question seriously but couldn’t come up with a meaningful timeline. “Cases… back-to-back for months. No chance to think. No time to do anything except find bad guys, put ‘em away, sleep - never for long enough - and look for more bad guys.”

“Do you ever consider all the technology we have at our fingertips that we never had in the eighties?”

Starsky was stunned. “No. It never occurs to me. It’s like we’ve always had it.”

“Same here.” Hutch’s gaze was unblinking. “I’m beginning to think we’ve been… altered. Somehow.”

“Whaddaya mean, ‘altered’?”

“I don’t know.” Hutch got up and poured two cups of very old coffee, gave one to Starsky and sat back down. “I’ve been talking with Gloria, from Forensics, recently. You and I have been spending so much time giving separate depositions and testimony in the Carlton, Washington, and Garcia cases, I needed to get out of the squad room when you weren’t here.” He took a sip of coffee and couldn’t hide a grimace. “She struck up a conversation with me in the cafeteria one day, seemingly out of the blue. We’ve run into each other a few times since and we’ve talked.” Hutch looked down at this cup, appearing almost embarrassed. 

Starsky waited for him to continue. He had the strange feeling that patience wasn’t his strongest suit but still, he waited. 

“She’s a good listener,” Hutch finally went on, not looking up, “and I’m afraid I’ve let her see how concerned I’ve been getting.” He lifted his head, his expression showing a lack of the self-confidence Starsky was so used to seeing in his unflappable partner. “I get the feeling she knows what’s going on but she’s afraid to say anything.”

“What made you start talking to her?” Starsky studied his uptight partner. “I’m the one you come to when something’s on your mind.”

Hutch broke eye contact and examined his cup in minute detail. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bullshit!” Hutch looked up, startled, which is exactly what Starsky had intended with his expletive. “We talk to each other about everything, Hutch. We always have!” A flash of uncertainty crossed his mind. “Haven’t we?” Hutch shrugged and Starsky plowed on, resolute. “You can’t start keeping secrets now.”

“I didn’t intend for it to be a secret.” Hutch pushed his cup aside. “I can’t get my head around what I know are facts.” There was definite worry in the bright blue eyes. “We should be ninety years old, Starsk, and we… _aren’t_.”

Starsky didn’t even bother to lift his cup; he was beginning to feel like a hound with a fresh scent and he didn’t want distractions. “What’s Gloria afraid of?”

“I have no idea but whatever it is, it’s big.”

“Hutch, we’ve lost fifty years! Damn straight it’s big!”

“Easy, buddy.” Hutch was trying to sound calmer than Starsky knew he was. “We need to think this through before we go off half-cocked.”

Starsky stood up. “Let’s both go talk to Gloria.”

“It’s nine o’clock,” Hutch reminded him. “She left hours ago.”

Starsky spun the chair around and straddled it, his arms folded across the back, and nailed the blond with a penetrating look. “Okay. What do you suggest?”

Hutch pushed his chair back and grabbed his jacket. “Let’s go to my apartment, make sure we’ll have some privacy.”

*******

Hutch pulled his battered SUV cross-over to the curb in front of Venice Place. “I definitely remember that this is where I live.” He knew Starsky hated it when he concentrated so hard, or had such a bad headache that the cleft between his eyebrows deepened but he couldn’t help it at the moment; his head hurt abominably.

Starsky cast a sympathetic glance his way, declining to comment on Hutch’s obvious pain. “I know it’s where we come when we don’t go to my place. Looks a little older than I think it should for some reason.” Starsky was plainly running through a mental obstacle course himself. “But not all that much.”

They got out and Hutch looked up at the familiar façade. “The building has great bones. It could be in this condition for another fifty years.” Following his partner upstairs, Hutch closed and locked the door behind them.

“Listen, buddy --”

Hutch put up his hand and signaled quiet. Catching on immediately, Starsky joined him in searching the apartment. They found four tiny micro devices and, without speaking, left them in place. Starsky took two beers out of the fridge while Hutch grabbed a CD at random from his collection before following his best friend out to the greenhouse.

“No bugs here, right?” Starsky whispered.

“Not that either of us found, but we’re not going to take any chances.” Hutch jammed the disc into the ancient Walkman on the potting table and hit ‘play.’ Heavy-metal, hard-rock pulsing guitars, brain-rattling reverb, and screaming voices blared out of the tinny speaker.

Starsky covered his ears. “Where did you get _that_?”

Hutch lowered the volume a little and sat on the bench. “I have no idea. Doesn’t sound like something I’d listen to, does it?” He patted the space next to him.

Starsky plopped down. “Sure doesn’t.”

“Well, it’ll drown out our voices and that’s all we care about.” 

“Those four devices sure make it look like someone’s trying to listen.” 

Hutch found he couldn’t do anything except nod stiffly and take a swallow of beer.

Starsky drank half his in three gulps before looking steadily at Hutch. “You got any ideas about who? And why someone would be monitoring us?”

“My guess is it’s whoever arranged for us to be younger than we should be.” Hutch held the cold bottle against his forehead. He’d had an almost constant headache for days and didn’t think he had them… before the nightmares. Starsky waited patiently, which seemed uncharacteristic, and with that feeling as reinforcement, Hutch was sure things were definitely out of kilter for both of them. “What do we really remember?”

“Gunther…” Starsky physically shuddered and drew in on himself. Hutch put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. After maybe a minute, Starsky sat up straight within the embrace. “I made it back though.” He turned to Hutch, a look of gratitude and love in his eyes. “You wouldn’t let me give up. Took care of me, nagged me, encouraged me… believed in me… and I made it back.”

“Gunther was a big one, that’s for sure.” Hutch fought the headache, knowing he was going to have to take something for it soon but putting it off. “We finally got a guilty verdict in ‘81, and something makes me say he died, or was killed, in prison.” He pressed the bottle’s coldness between his eyes. “But there were important cases after that…. Weren’t there?”

Starsky didn’t answer right away; he was visibly processing information and not finding the answers he needed. “I… I think so. But I can’t seem to remember what they were. Or who we took down.” 

“Gloria showed me a few records she’d dug out of the archives and copied.” Hutch drank a little more beer. “We worked a joint investigation with the FBI to break up the Dorsetti family’s empire. We both went undercover, you as a hot shot chauffeur and enforcer, replacing the man who’d been badly injured in a completely unrelated traffic accident. Dailey, at the Bureau, said it was the best piece of luck they’d had in the whole case to that point. You were a natural at the driving part and pulled off the leg-breaker role with élan.”

“‘Élan’? What the hell’s that?” 

Hutch ruffled the dark, curly hair. When Starsky stiffened and drew away slightly, Hutch stilled his hand. “Sorry. Is that something I’m not supposed to do?”

“Don’t know.” After a second, his partner shrugged and shifted back. “Do it again.” Slowly, Hutch laced his fingers into the dense curls and gently massaged the scalp. “Mmmmmmm. Feels good.” Starsky sipped his beer and leaned against Hutch. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Hutch smiled. “Anyway, ‘élan’ means you performed your duties with enthusiasm and vigor. Thankfully though, we were able to get you out before you were forced to hurt someone, or blow your cover by refusing.”

“What were you doing while I was driving?” Confusion and doubt crept into Starsky’s expression. “Why don’t I remember this, Hutch?”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m only telling you what I read in the report. I don’t actually remember it either.”

“So what were you doing?”

“I took over the bookkeeping from an old guy who’d given the family his loyalty and expertise for almost thirty years.”

“Had he been working for the Feds all that time?” 

“No idea.” Hutch tugged a curl lightly, hoping for inspiration. It didn’t come. “If he had been, the FBI wouldn’t have needed _us_.”

Starsky didn’t look satisfied. “How’d they come up with a good enough cover story for you? Sounds fishy to me.”

Hutch shook his head, then nodded. “It does to me, too. But according to the file I read, they did, and I had enough time to get the hard-copy information that was needed. You worked a couple of the lesser family members and convinced them to testify. Together, you and I collected enough evidence and testimony to put four top Dorsettis away and dismantle the rest of the organization.” He rolled the bottle across his forehead again. “We got commendations from the Bureau, as well as our own department.”

Starsky suddenly sat up straight.

Hutch stopped caressing Starsky’s hair. Self-consciously, he took his arm from around the shoulders and put both hands around his beer bottle. “Did you just remember something?”

“Maybe…” Starsky’s face was scrunched up in pure concentration. “A kidnapping… for a huge ransom… billion dollars or some ridiculous amount like that… businessman’s wife…”

“Nelson and Adele Marshburn.” 

“Right! But it was bogus… she set it up herself… wanted the money so she could run away with the head kidnapper.” Starsky looked as it he wanted to go after her and bust her again.

They sat in silence until the CD skipped a few beats and began to repeat the first terrible song. Not bothering to get up to change it, Hutch picked up the thread of their conversation. “Thinking about it all now, I seem to recall things that were glossed over or left out of the official report Gloria let me read. You and I found a snitch who’d been in on the beginning of the plan but had run afoul of the leader, been beaten and left for dead on the docks. In the hospital, after he woke up, we badgered him for information until we could piece things together and figure out where she and her paramour were hiding.” 

Starsky snapped his fingers, an ‘ah ha’ look on his face. “When we got her in cuffs, she had the foulest mouth of anyone I’d ever heard. Male or female. Remember?”

“Now that you mention it, I do.”

Starsky nodded. “She was a piece o’ work. We got dressed down, verbally, for using an injured perp that way, but official commendations. Solved the case for the FBI and saved Mr. Marshburn all that money.”

“Reading between the lines, yes.” Hutch held the now lukewarm bottle against his aching head, got up and lowered the CD’s volume a little more. “I almost don’t care if anyone is listening. That’s the worst junk rock I’ve ever heard.”

Starsky nudged him gently in the ribs after he sat back down. “Have you got a rebellious, antisocial side I don’t know about and are buying this crap behind my back?”

Hutch considered the question before shaking his head. “Nope. Pretty sure I don’t. And I have no idea why this CD was in the rack.”

“Maybe it’s one of our listeners’ idea of a joke. Or his taste in music.” Starsky got up and hit the kill switch. 

Merciful silence filled the room and Hutch imagined that even the plants sighed with relief. “Thanks, partner.”

Starsky remained standing. “I better shove off,” he whispered. “Get lots of sleep this weekend. Monday’ll be another long day. We need to keep digging on the Arlington jewelry heist. It’s about to break, I can feel it!” He brushed his fingers across Hutch’s forehead. “Take something for that before you go to bed, okay?”

Hutch got up and led the way inside. When Starsky moved past him, Hutch put a hand on his arm, keeping his voice down. “Don’t leave.” He turned the entertainment center on, found an acceptable station and cranked up the volume. His partner glanced at him, the question in his eyes. “Something makes me think we shouldn’t be separated right now.”

“Oh… okay.” Starsky glanced away.

“And don’t look at the couch.” Hutch made sure his voice was casual and normal. “It kills your back. Besides, the bed’s plenty big enough for both of us.”

“You sure?” Starsky sounded uncertain. “Have we done that before?”

“Don’t remember,” Hutch admitted. “But right now I don’t want you out of my sight, so sharing the bed will have to work.”

“Fine by me.” Starsky grinned. “First dibs on the shower!” He put his empty bottle on the end table and dashed toward the bathroom.

Hutch picked up the container and took it and his own to the recycle bin. He programmed the coffee maker for morning and filled the reservoir from the kitchen tap. With the sound of the shower buzzing in the background, he got a loaf of bread and a pound of turkey bacon out of the freezer and put them in the refrigerator to defrost. With no other chores needing to be done, he shut off the lights and went to the sleeping alcove.

*******

Starsky knew he was having a nightmare but couldn’t seem to wake up. He was angry, terrified, and completely unable to hold onto a single thought that made any sense. Hutch was dead and that couldn’t be possible! He wouldn’t _allow_ it to be possible.

He screamed, or whimpered, he didn’t know which, when strong arms wrapped around him. He fought but the limbs held him tighter. “Easy, Starsk, easy, buddy… it’s okay… come on back… I’ve got you…” The soothing words were whispered in his ear.

Gradually, as he became aware of his surroundings and his agitation lessened, the stranglehold was relaxed. Starsky knew it was Hutch who held him; the gentle strength, the calming words, the unique scent of woodlands-smelling soap, were things Starsky’d recognize anywhere, at any time. Being cradled in his partner’s embrace, though, made him slightly uncomfortable. He tried to wriggle out of the warm grasp. “I’m okay now.”

Hutch let him go and sat up against the headboard. “Bad dream?”

Starsky pulled himself up to lean against the brass uprights, too. Having his partner’s arms around him had felt… right. And good. But he figured they had too much to unravel and find out about before getting involved in personal feelings. At least that was his thinking at the moment. 

He turned on the bedside lamp, activated hidden speakers, needing the background music from the living room to cover their words, and shifted so that he could look at Hutch. The sky-blue eyes were clouded, almost wary. Starsky put a hand on his partner’s arm. “Thanks. It _was_ bad, and I couldn’t get out of it.”

“That’s what I thought.” Hutch tentatively held his arms open. “Want a hug?”

Starsky cuddled into them immediately, snaking his own arms around the slim waist and finding that his head fit perfectly into the hollow of Hutch’s throat. So much for not getting involved in personal feelings. However, he discovered that he had to steel himself and take a deep breath in order to talk about what he’d ‘seen.’ “You were dead, Hutch.” A shudder ran through the taut body he held, almost duplicating the one that coursed through him. 

“Tell me.” Hutch began to stroke his back gently. 

“You’d gone undercover as a buyer in this huge human-trafficking organization. Men, women and children had been disappearing for over a year. You’d been under for weeks and I’d hardly had a chance to talk to you. I had a bad feeling and was trying to convince the top Fed to pull you out.” Unable to stop himself, he began trembling and Hutch held him tighter. “Then you… vanished… and they said you were dead.”

“I’m right here, Starsk.”

“I know. It was only a dream.” He pulled back and looked into the concerned deep blue gaze. “But it seemed so real. I’d lost you.”

“A couple of times recently… I dreamed that you died, too.”

Starsky leaned back even more. “Really?” He sat up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t know what the dreams meant. And I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Here we go again, Blintz…” Starsky didn’t try to keep the humor out of his voice or off his face. “We don’t keep things from each other. That much I think I do remember.” 

Starsky jumped out of bed, ran to the kitchen and grabbed two beers from the fridge. When he got back, Hutch had smoothed the rumpled bedding and was sitting on top of the spread, leaning against the shiny spindles.

He accepted the beer Starsky held out. “You’re right. I should tell you about my two dreams.”

Starsky sat next to him, his ankles crossed Indian-style. “I’m all ears, pal.” Hutch took a long swallow before rolling the cold bottle across his forehead. Starsky bolted off the bed again, left his beer on the nightstand, and raced into the bathroom. When he came back he held out four aspirin tablets. “You never took anything earlier, did you? Knock that headache back so we can talk.”

Hutch took the pills and downed them with brew. “Thanks.”

Starsky picked up his bottle and settled back where he’d been, only closer, with his knees against Hutch’s hip and thigh. The contact seemed to help soothe his partner.

“In two different dreams…” Hutch took another swallow. “You were dead. I found your body myself the first time. Held you. Cried. Screamed. Ranted at the Feds around me. They’d left you under too long or inadvertently blown your cover themselves. I didn’t know which. I only knew that I’d never see you again. Not alive anyway.”

He fell silent and Starsky nudged the forgotten bottle. “Drink some more. It might help.”

Hutch did as ‘ordered.’ “One of the trauma techs that had responded to the scene caught me unaware and injected me with something. The last thing I remember was being told everything would be okay in the morning.” He looked at Starsky, pain lurking deep in his eyes. “And it was. I woke up, here in my bed the next day - at least I think it was the next day - went to work, and you were there.”

“No explanation? I was just… there?”

“No explanation,” Hutch repeated. “Neither of us was given the chance to talk about it either. We were called into Dobey’s office and thrown into another critical case right away.”

Starsky drank a little of his own beer. “What about your second dream?” 

“Someone pulled the plug on my assignment, brought me in out of the cold, and told me you’d died. I never even got to see your body.” Hutch stared at the brown bottle in his clenched fists. “I didn’t freak that time though. I pulled my gun because I fully intended to kill them.” The haunted blue eyes found Starsky’s. “Pretty sure I didn’t get the chance. When I came to, in a hospital, you were there. Alive and well.” He took a couple of swigs. “I woke up from that dream sweating, shivering, and knowing something was wrong. I’ve been trying to piece things together ever since.”

Starsky did his best to sort through his thoughts and feelings. He took one more drink and put the bottle on the nightstand. Turning back to Hutch, he deliberately took the closest hand. “It sounds like they… and I’m not sure if ‘they’ are Federal or local, give us the really difficult cases. They shove us undercover, make us gather the intel they need, and if we get burned…” He peered deeply into Hutch’s eyes. “Are you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

Hutch put his beer aside. “We were the best…. So they cloned us.”

“Wait a sec!” Starsky grimaced when he realized he’d raised his voice. Grabbing the remote, he turned up the volume on the background music before looking back at Hutch. “I remember the case…. At least I think I do.”

Hutch drew his legs up, crossed his ankles and shifted so that they sat knees-to-knees, their faces only inches apart. “Like you said, I’m listening.”

Starsky took both of Hutch’s hands in his. “After Gunter… after I requalified and we were back on the streets… we cracked a bunch of big cases and then were brought in on one the Feds had supposedly been struggling with for over a year.”

Hutch leaned in, a fire beginning to blaze in his eyes. “A research lab…”

“Out in the Mohave…”

Hutch’s hands gripped his tighter. “I went in as a tech…”

“I drove the shuttle bus that transported workers to and from Barstow every day. There was a second bus that brought employees up from Baker, driver’s name was… Bruce? There was a limo, too… I drove the head honchos everywhere they had to go. And did the maintenance on all the vehicles.”

“Our covers must have been blown…” Hutch’s forehead creased as if his headache had suddenly worsened. 

Starsky leaned forward and, with his thumbs, gently erased the deep wrinkles and smoothed out the vertical fissure. “Don’t make your headache worse. We’ll figure this out.”

Hutch’s gratitude was laced through his determination. “I’m okay, Starsk. We’re on the right track, I know we are.”

Starsky took Hutch’s hands again. “We’re clones.”

Hutch shuddered. “They put Starsky and Hutchinson into that facility so they could make copies of them.” 

Starsky nodded. “They wanted expendable supercops. We get thrown into every miserable situation because they know if we get killed, all they have to do is activate the next one.” A new thought occurred to him. “Wonder how often they’ve done it? How many of… us… have there been?”

“Close to fifty years’ worth, I’d say.”

“Terrific.”

“I’ll bet they’re making sure we get some sort of mind-dulling drug that keeps us from putting it all together.” Hutch took a hand back and rubbed his head again before returning it to their clasp. “Can’t be too mind-dulling though, partner…” He smirked. “We’re still solving big cases.”

“It’s twenty-thirty-three, Hutch. I’ll just bet there’s a drug out there that’s capable of enhancing or submerging any specific thought or emotion.”

Hutch signed with resignation. “Wouldn’t be at all surprised.”

Starsky rubbed a thumb across his partner’s knuckles. “I know this is off the subject but… are we supposed to be holding hands?” He looked up into the bluebonnet blues. “I was trying to back off earlier, didn’t want to complicate things. I’m having second thoughts now, though.” He glanced down at their hands again, then back up and into the gorgeous eyes so very close to his. “Does this bother you?” 

“Not in the least.”

“Good. ‘Cause I suddenly want to kiss you.”

The surprise that appeared on Hutch’s face quickly turned to interest, then enthusiasm. “Please… don’t let me stop you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Hutch stood in the kitchen next morning, humming along with the music that flowed over the noise of taking mugs and spoons out of the dishwasher. All he’d bothered to pull on when he’d crawled out of bed was a pair of running shorts. He knew his nearly-nude body was being visually devoured by his completely naked lover who was lounging at the table, and that pleased him enormously. He couldn’t remember anyone ever watching him putter around with such pure lust before. Not even the wife he vaguely remembered.

Realizing he was happier, and a great deal more sated than he’d been in a very long time, Hutch took the pot of already-brewed coffee from the maker and filled two large cups. When he turned around to carry them to the table he stopped in his tracks.

Starsky had stood up and was staring at the sink’s faucet. “Where’d you get the water for the coffee maker last night?”

Instantly following Starsky’s train of thought, Hutch put the mugs on the table and went to the sleeping alcove. He pulled on a sweatshirt and stuffed his feet into sandals while Starsky donned last night’s jeans, shirt, and shoes-without-socks, not bothering with his briefs or t-shirt. 

Hutch grabbed his keys off the end table and led the way out the front door and down two flights of stairs to the basement. In the dim light given off by the single overhead bulb they discovered what they both suspected they might find. Behind the ancient furnace, an unmarked metal cylinder was attached to the city’s water line below one of the four meters on the wall, the one tagged, ‘Hutchinson.’ 

“Looks like it had better be bottled water from here on, Starsk.”

“Now I’m really pissed.” Starsky’s face was flushed, his jaw rigid. “I never thought I’d voluntarily drink designer water.”

Doing his best to lighten the moment, Hutch mussed his partner’s hair. “Look at it this way, babe, we’ll be helping to keep Evian’s workers employed.”

“Let ‘em drink their own damn water,” Starsky snarled. “Wait a minute!” He stopped at the foot of the staircase. “You think they’ve done the same thing at my place?” He sat down on the bottom step. 

Hutch joined him. “I’d bet on it.” He patted the adjacent knee. “We’ll have to be careful about everything we eat or drink. There’s no telling what other method they may have for delivering their mind control.”

“Hey!” Starsky sat up straight. “The air conditioning system!” He darted across the room and began inspecting the cooling unit tagged, ‘Hutchinson’. “Didn’t I see this on an X-Files? They pumped stuff in through the vents.” 

Hutch followed him. “I didn’t remember you watched X-Files.”

“Sure you did, Hutch! We watched ‘em together whenever we could.”

“That’s right. We did.” Hutch helped with the inspection but nothing was found. Leading the way back to the steps, he sat down and Starsky sat beside him.

“I doubt seriously that they’d duplicate their efforts, buddy.” Hutch did his best to sound sure of himself. “Think about it… they go to all the trouble of contaminating my water supply, so why bother with the air?” He put his arm around Starsky’s shoulders. “We’ll check your place. If there’s a cylinder on your water line but no tampering with the a/c, we’ll assume they believe however much water we drink is enough to do the trick.”

“Damn!” Starsky sounded like he was almost ready to cry. “I really wanted that cup of coffee!”

Hutch kissed him quickly. “Bet I can take your mind off it.”

Starsky perked up. “Bet you can, too!”

*******

Starsky’s heart felt lighter and happier than he could ever remember. The night before, as soon as their first lustful kiss had been interrupted by the necessity of breathing, he and Hutch had begun investigating their growing physical desires. All too soon it seemed, they had achieved almost simultaneous orgasms from inexperienced co-hand-jobs. Starsky thought there might be more to ‘spontaneous combustion’ than science could prove. Smothering a self-satisfied smile, he had gotten a wet washcloth and a towel from the bathroom and tenderly cleaned up his new lover and himself. After which, they had fallen soundly, dreamlessly asleep in each other’s arms. 

This morning, leaving the cylinder in the basement exactly as they’d found it, they had climbed back upstairs and Hutch had succeeded in taking Starsky’s mind off their probably-tainted coffee with the best blow-job Starsky had ever experienced! 

“It’s all in knowing what I like,” Hutch had said, “and translating that into pleasuring you.”

“Damn, Hutch! After hearing it all my life, I finally know what ‘blow your mind’ really means!” 

Starsky had been so inspired by his partner’s skill he had used every touch, stroke, and tongue-flick Hutch had just demonstrated to do the same thing to the blond. Cuddling afterward, Starsky had chuckled. “If our techniques improve too much, we might never live through this liaison.”

Hutch had mussed his hair and kissed his temple. “I’ll risk it if you will.” 

At that moment, Starsky knew in his deepest heart that whatever happened would be worth it. Hutch was everything he’d ever dreamed of finding in a lover. And probably more! What was even better, he had realized, was the fact that Hutch was already his best friend, pal, buddy, and partner! What could be more wonderful? Well, maybe if they hadn’t also discovered that they were most likely clones. 

Since it was Saturday and they had been promised the weekend off before having to dig into the gem heist, Starsky suggested they track down Gloria.

“We can’t take the chance of getting her into trouble, Starsk.”

“We’ll be careful. But even if she only suspects something, she could save us a lot of time.” 

They drove Hutch’s old SUV to Starsky’s apartment. There they found a canister identical to the one in Hutch’s basement attached to Starsky’s water line. Similarly, there was no visible tampering with the air conditioning unit.

Upstairs, neither said a word while Starsky changed into fresh briefs, jeans, shirt and jacket. If listening devices were in Hutch’s place, they were certain to be here, too. Getting angrier and more determined by the minute, they ran down to the street and checked Starsky’s jaunty red convertible for listening or tracking devices. None was found. 

“You think those things in our apartments are enough to let ‘em know what we’re talking about and where we’re going? They don’t need to put bugs in our cars?” Starsky had a hard time believing ‘they’ would overlook such a basic chance to know their every move. He wouldn’t have.

“So far, they have no reason to suspect we have any idea what’s going on. The bugs are probably only there as insurance.” Hutch was definitely trying to sound convincing and Starsky did want to believe him. “So we have to make sure we don’t act… suspiciously.” He slid into the passenger seat of the sporty car. “It’s a Saturday. We’re not on duty. Why should anyone care where we’re going?”

Starsky shrugged and put his trust in Hutch’s positive attitude. He got behind the wheel and fired up the engine. “Do we know where Gloria lives?”

Hutch pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I looked up the address last week, on the pretext of needing to check a retired cop’s information. The names were right next to each other.”

Starsky grinned at him and, in the pit of his stomach, he realized he was falling in love. With his best friend, his male partner. “Knew I kept you around for a reason.”

Hutch’s expression held gratitude and a hint of embarrassment. “Wilson Avenue. Fourteen twenty-one.”

“Not much traffic today, so we’ll be there in…” Starsky rolled his wrist and checked his watch. “No time!” Paranoia being a good thing, he checked for tails all the way to her place and saw no signs of surveillance.

*******

Gloria Westerfield was quite obviously not happy about the visitors on her doorstep but Hutch wasn’t going to be dissuaded by her claim of needing to go shopping. The sheer resolve in his face and body language forced her to back away from the door. “You can shop later, Gloria.” He led Starsky into the tastefully furnished living room. “We need your help.”

In her mid-twenties, she was reasonably tall and lean with smooth mocha-colored skin, short-cropped dark hair and piercing brown eyes. “I don’t have anything more to tell you, Hutchinson.” She sat primly in an overstuffed armchair. 

Before Hutch could respond, Starsky put a hand on his back. He sat on the couch and motioned for Hutch to join him. Figuring that Starsky wanted to play ‘good cop,’ Hutch put his impatience away for the time being.

With an air of gentle persuasion, Starsky turned to Gloria. “Hutch and I are putting things together ourselves but you could cut through a few of the roadblocks we’d probably run into.”

She fisted her hands in her lap. “As I told your partner, Starsky, I don’t really _know_ anything! Mostly what I did was show him a few files I’d copied.” 

“Ah, but why did you copy them? You have suspicions.” Starsky sat forward and pressed. “Maybe they’ll allow us to sort through our own.”

“That’s all we’re asking for, Gloria.” Hutch used his best victim-comforting tone. “Just tell us anything you can.” 

She sat still and silent for at least a minute. When she did move, it was to get up and walk to the window. She stood for another minute before turning back, clearly having come to a decision. “I think you’re clones.” 

Hutch could feel the tension in his partner but didn’t take his eyes from her face. “We think so, too. How did you find out?” 

The fact that she’d used the dreaded ’c’ word and nothing had happened, seemed to give her renewed courage. She sat down again and looked at them both. “My grandmother’s Minnie Kaplan.”

Starsky grabbed Hutch’s knee. “I know that name!”

“So do I, Starsk. We worked with her.”

“No,” Gloria gently corrected. “She worked with the originals of you both.”

Hutch shook his head. “Bear with us, Gloria. Starsky and I are having some trouble coming to terms with the fact that we’re not real.”

“Oh, you’re _real_ , all right!” Her gaze intensified. “I’ve been reading a lot of the research into, and experimentation with cloning. Duplicating humans is illegal but clones of every other species are identical to the originals. Once they begin breathing though, they become individuals, affected by the people and surroundings they encounter. No one in the articles I’ve found admits to cloning people but you just know it’s been tried.” She looked steadily at each of them. “I believe you’re living proof that someone, somewhere, is breaking the law.”

“So…” Starsky appeared unsettled but resolute. “As soon as we’re, what would the term be, ‘activated’?” She nodded and he went on. “As soon as we’re activated, we’d begin to change?”

“Yes.” She nodded, more emphatically this time. “Even though you start out the same as Starsky and Hutch were when they were… we’ll say ‘frozen’ for lack of a better word, you each… well, mature. You’re all individuals with your own thoughts, feelings --”

“Wait a second.” Starsky held up a hand, interrupting her train of thought. “You said ‘frozen.’ You mean they’re still alive?” 

“Yes. Granny Min says the people behind all this wouldn’t want to kill their golden geese.”

Hutch caught Starsky’s eye and silently tried to discuss the ramifications of such a bombshell. But this was too deep; they’d need a lot more time to wade through that quagmire. He turned back to Gloria. “Where?”

Gloria got up again, motioning for them to stay seated. She hurried through the dining room into the kitchen. After about a minute, and unidentifiable rattling sounds, she came back and sat down. On her lap was a tray with an ice cube bin and a folded dish towel. She had a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. “I know the freezer isn’t supposed to be a very secure place to hide something but I couldn’t think of anywhere better.” 

She dug under the cubes and extracted a sealed plastic bag. “This is all I thought I could get away with copying. The department’s archives from that period haven’t been digitized and, thankfully, the ancient Xerox machine down there isn’t monitored.” She dried the outside of the bag on the towel and handed it to Hutch.

Hutch unsealed the end and took out several sheets of paper. Starsky leaned against his arm and they read the information together.

“‘Far…’” Hutch had to swallow the sudden dryness in his throat before he could try again. ‘Farpoint Research Institute and Laboratories’.”

“That was the place, Hutch! The labs we… no, not us, Starsky and Hutch were investigating.”

Gloria smiled for the first time. “Granny Min had made detective by that time and she remembers when they were called up to Chief Dobey’s office. Scuttlebutt said they were being put under on another top-secret drug bust.”

Starsky shook his head. “It wasn’t drugs.”

“No. It was Farpoint.” Gloria pointed to the pages in Hutch’s hands. “That’s the only name in those reports and somehow, in whispers only, it got circulated.” She laced her fingers in her lap. “Granny Min didn’t see Starsky and Hutch again for a very long time. Rumors went around that they’d run into trouble, both of them had been badly hurt, and they had to lay low while they healed. Also, it was bandied about that they couldn’t come back out into the open until the heat from the lawyers at Farpoint had died down.”

Hutch’s stomach clenched and he felt immediate pressure against his shoulder. “They screwed up?” 

Gloria shook her head. “Absolutely not! It was nothing Starsky and Hutch did wrong! Farpoint was on the warpath for an entirely different reason.” 

Hutch leaned against Starsky and felt a definite sensation of relief returned. At least it wasn’t their ‘ancestors’ that had messed up the op.

“I’m not explaining this very well,” Gloria said. “I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize.” Hutch tried to put her at ease again; they really did need this information. “Starsky and I are… oh, hell! I don’t know what to call us, we’re not Starsky and Hutch!”

“That’s not true!” Her expression was almost angry. “Don’t give that idea a second thought. Those are your names, and who you _are_!”

“Thanks, Gloria.” Starsky attempted a smile and patted Hutch’s leg. “I think.” 

Hutch forced himself to accept what she’d said. “Okay. Anyway, I started to say Starsky and I are a little uptight right now and I jumped to conclusions about what might have happened. Just tell us whatever you can, however you want. We’ll try not to interrupt again.”

“As complicated as this is, ask questions any time. I just don’t want you to get the wrong impression about anything they did.” She folded her hands across the bin on top of the tray. “They’d been gone for weeks when the grapevine circulated a story that said the whole operation, on both the Federal and local levels, had been scrubbed because it had turned out the lab was legit. Completely above-board.”

She put the tray with the bin of melting ice on the floor next to her chair and sat back. “After Starsky and Hutch were pulled out, but before they got back to Metro, Farpoint supposedly discovered that their newest employees were undercover cops and they were furious. I think the word their mouthpieces used was ‘incensed.’ Farpoint was incensed that they’d been covertly investigated and demanded that no mention ever be made in the media, or online, about the operation. They threatened to bankrupt the city with lawsuits otherwise. The names Starsky and Hutchinson never appeared anywhere.” 

Starsky shook his head again, more strongly this time. “That’s lame.”

Hutch patted his partner’s thigh. “Methinks they doth protest too much.” 

Starsky grinned. “Shakespeare, right?”

Hutch sent him the most loving look he thought he could get away with. “Got it in one, pal.” Turning back to Gloria, he put his feelings on hold. “Sorry, that was a partner thing.” 

His and Starsky’s brief exchange had seemed to settle her. She went on without hesitation. “Unfortunately, that line of bullshit from Farpoint’s lawyers was all the story-tellers at Metro had to chew on, and the guys weren’t around to say anything different.” She looked down at her hands again for a few moments before continuing more brightly. “Granny Min says the day, about three years later, that Starsky and Hutch walked back into the squad room was one of the happiest of her life. Apparently they didn’t look a day older so, of course, more rumors started flying around. Someone said, and others believed, that after they got back on their feet, they’d gone off following the trail of Ponce de Leon and had found the Fountain of Youth.”

Hutch chuckled. “What’s lamer than lame, Starsk?”

“You just heard it, buddy. Starsky and Hutch found the Fountain of Youth!”

“Do either of you remember anything from the time they were undercover at Farpoint?” Gloria asked. “Do you have any of their memories?”

Hutch raked through his mental Rolodex and grabbed at bits and pieces. “I think so…”

“We… they… were getting close…” Starsky muttered, probably sorting his own handed-down recollections.

“I’d… Hutch had found a secret lab in the facility --”

“That’s right!” Starsky had definitely latched onto something. “When you… he… got to my… Shit! This is too bizarre. We’re them, right, Hutch?” Off Hutch’s nod, he went on. “So it’s still you and me. And when you got to my rented room that night you were all excited…”

“Tests, experiments… cloned animals… and they were ready to try it on humans.”

“But…” Starsky’s eyes clouded. “Something happened, Hutch. We never got to go back there.”

“We were pulled out, remember?” Starsky shook his head again and Hutch kept going. “The Feds came to us in your room that night and told us the operation was over because Farpoint had been cleared of all suspicion.”

“We knew for damn sure that wasn’t true! You’d found their secret!” Starsky shrugged. “But what could we do? We were only Metro cops. They were the Feds!” 

Hutch put every soothing quality he possessed into his voice. “Nothing, Starsk. There was nothing we could do.” 

Starsky was apparently remembering again. “They didn’t even let us come back to town! They sent us on an all-expenses-paid vacation!”

“To Baker.” Hutch layered his voice with sarcasm and irony. “Gateway to Death Valley.”

“There’s a gaping hole in my memory after that, Hutch.”

“Mine, too, but I suspect Starsky and Hutchinson were captured there and taken to the lab.”

“Where for the next three years…” Starsky must have fallen deeply into his own thoughts because he nodded slowly, fearfully, reluctantly, sadly, “They perfected… us.”

“Send in the clones,” Gloria whispered.

Starsky grimaced but quickly changed it to a grin of appreciation. “Good one, kid.” He nudged Hutch’s elbow. “I don’t know about you, pal, but I think I needed that kick in my funny bone.”

Hutch appreciated Starsky’s attempt to lighten the mood. Still, he knew things were anything but amusing. “They must play with our minds, don’t you think, Starsk? Maybe whatever’s in those cylinders is more selective and insidious than we thought.” 

Gloria sat forward again. “What cylinders?” 

Hutch didn’t really feel like talking about it again so he gently indicated that Starsky should field that question.

“Down in Hutch’s basement --” 

“The water supply?” It looked as if she didn’t need the answer.

Hutch was surprised but Starsky blurted the words out first. “How’d you know?”

“I told you,” she said, in a very small voice. “I’ve been doing a lot of reading. There’s speculation that human clones, once it’s no longer illegal to produce them, will be more susceptible than their originals to certain substances and that would be the easiest method of delivery. It makes sense that they, whoever they are, would need to keep you off balance, not questioning anything except your next assignment. Keep you too busy and too confused to have time to think.”

Pieces of the puzzle were dropping into a horrible image for Hutch. He looked into Starsky’s eyes, trying to draw as much comfort and support as he gave. “They do all that so you and I don’t question the lost years, or the new technologies.” He looked back at Gloria. “When one of us gets killed, they drug the other until a replacement can be… activated?”

She nodded. “That’s what Granny Min thinks.”

“Minnie was always smart,” Starsky said. “Sure glad she finally made --”

“Wait a minute!” Hutch felt as if he’d been squirted with cold water by the elephant in the room. “Why don’t people realize that we don’t get any older?”

Starsky appeared thunderstruck. Gloria studied her clenched fingers.

“What do you know, Gloria?” Hutch prodded.

She began to blush. “Granny Min’s convinced there’s someone involved with Farpoint that’s casting glamours on everybody.”

“ _What_?” Starsky got the explosive question out a split-second before Hutch.

“Are we supposed to know what a… a ‘glamour’ is?” Hutch tried to keep his voice neutral but was pretty sure he’d failed.

Her blush increased. “Not if you don’t practice magic.”

Starsky opened his mouth, clearly ready to loose a scathing remark. Before he uttered a sound though, he clamped his jaws together, cast a ‘you have got to be kidding me’ glance at Hutch, then drilled Gloria with his best silent, intimidating bad-cop stare. 

If Gloria had been afraid, flustered or embarrassed before, she was simply speechless now. 

Hutch took pity and bestowed his most winning smile on her. “Relax, Gloria, we’re not going to turn you into a toad or --”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Blondie,” Starsky growled.

Hutch nudged him lightly, still focused on Gloria. “We’re only trying to figure out what’s going on so we can put a stop to it.” He bore down on his next words. “Cloning humans is still illegal. We looked it up on the way over here and you’ve confirmed it.” He glanced at the fuming Starsky before continuing to the woman across the coffee table. “We have to shut this place down, but first we need all the information we can get…. What’s a ‘glamour’?”

She breathed in deeply before meeting Hutch’s eyes. “It’s a spell to make people see, and believe, what they’re meant to see and believe. If Granny Min’s right, and I think she is, someone from Farpoint comes into the squad room the first time one or the other of you is being… ‘replaced,’ and initiates the enchantment. He has to be pretty damn strong for it to last from one replacement to the next. He must be a genuine top-flight wizard.”

“‘Genuine’ and ‘wizard’ in the same breath.” Hutch wasn’t at all sure he was still on planet Earth.

“She’s right, Hutch.” Starsky broke into his misery, rubbing his forehead as if he had caught Hutch’s headache. “I remember… or think I do… a guy… short, balding, wire-rim glasses, bad suit…”

An almost blinding spear of pain shot through Hutch’s head but he fought through it. “Yeah. He was lurking on the edge of both of my dreams. It could be something he’s done to me that’s giving me these headaches.”

Gloria nodded. “Wizard.”

“So…” Hutch tried to banish his doubts and gather the bits of information they had, plus his still-fuzzy memories - no, Hutch’s memories - NO! They were _his_ memories, the original Hutchinson didn’t know any of this shit! The whole thing was getting too confusing. Starsky patted his leg in silent, unquestioned support. “Farpoint must have control over the media, too. Otherwise, every time we made a major bust our names would have been in the papers, on television, and all over the internet.”

Starsky nodded, knowing immediately where he was going. “After years, someone would have had to realize we always looked the same…”

“Never aged,” Hutch finished.

Gloria downed the rest of her coffee. “Granny Min believes Farpoint makes sure your names are never mentioned and the glamour keeps your colleagues from questioning your appearance or longevity.”

“I guess if one or both of us started looking or acting any older, Hutch, they’d arrange for replacements, and things would keep on keepin’ on.”

“Ain’t technology grand?” Hutch hated the cynicism in his voice but couldn’t banish it.

“If we stay on the job,” Starsky sounded really sad, “we’ll never be allowed to be anything except puppets.” 

Hutch put his arm around his partner’s shoulders. “Don’t forget though, Starsk, we _are_ still here. And we are still bustin’ bad guys.”

“Doin’ somebody’s dirty work for ‘em.” He looked at Hutch, more righteous anger and disgust in his eyes than Hutch could ever remember seeing. “I don’t want to lose focus here, but I’m beginning to get royally pissed.”

“Then I suggest we make use of that.” Hutch, attempting to appear relaxed, spread both arms across the back of the couch. “Okay, boys and girls… what’s our next move?”

Starsky smacked the table with a resounding thump. “We have to go out there, Hutch! We need to close that damned place down!” 

Hutch wasn’t surprised; Starsky had always been one to jump in with both feet and consider consequences later. Was that the original Starsky, he wondered, or this particular clone?

“You can’t.” Gloria didn’t raise her voice, it was a simple statement. “The place is a fortress.”

Something began scratching at the back of Hutch’s consciousness; Gloria wasn’t telling them everything. “How do you know?”

She gulped and broke eye contact. “Research.”

“Always valuable.” Starsky’s tone implied disbelief.

She looked at them again, almost wringing her hands. “I’m serious, guys! They have attack dogs.” She sounded truly worried. “They’d catch you!”

Hutch leaned his elbows on his knees. “We _are_ going out there, Gloria, just like I think you knew we would. But there’s something you’re not telling us…. What is it?”

When she didn’t reply right away, Starsky matched his posture. “Are Hutch and I reading between the lines correctly here? Is Minnie involved?”

“No!” For long seconds she tried to keep up the pretense. When neither Hutch nor Starsky said anything, her shoulders drooped and she looked away. “Okay, yes. But I’m scared for her.”

“How recently have you two talked?” Hutch couldn’t hide his intensity.

“We talk every day but Grampa Hug’s the one --”

“ _Who_?” Hutch and Starsky barked the word at the same time.

Before she could reply, a name exploded into Hutch’s consciousness and out of his mouth. “Huggy Bear!”

An almost satisfied expression softened the concern on Gloria’s face. Abruptly, she picked up the tray and went to the kitchen. More rustling, banging and clanking followed.

Hutch gripped Starsky’s arm. “Sounds like Huggy’s still alive.”

“He was a few years younger than us…”

“He wouldn’t be ninety yet…”

“And the sonavabitch did tell us he came from a long-lived family!” Starsky grabbed Hutch’s fingers. “Huggy’s alive!”

Gloria came back from the kitchen and this time the tray held three large mugs. “I thought it was a little early for anything else. Is coffee okay?”

Starsky beamed at her, reached and snagged the closest cup. “You’re a life saver, Gloria.”

Hutch took his cup and drank. When she’d settled back in her chair, he rested the mug on his knee. “Why didn’t you tell me…” he glanced at Starsky, “or at least tell us when we got here, about Huggy?”

“I had to be sure you both understood the whole situation and were committed to what it will take to put an end to Farpoint. They’re my grandparents! I need to protect them if I possibly can.”

“And if we weren’t committed?” Hutch couldn’t keep the wariness out of his voice.

“Then you wouldn’t be the cops they remember and I would never have mentioned them. Each clone changes, I told you that. We couldn’t assume your individuality hadn’t made you people we couldn’t trust.”

“Can you honestly look at us and think of us as people?” Starsky sounded as if his life depended on her answer and Hutch squeezed his leg gently.

“Yes. I can! You _are_ people! It’s only that, instead of being born, you were cloned. From everything I can determine, there’s no other difference.” 

“Except that we’re more susceptible to certain substances.” Starsky repeated her phrases deliberately, deep sadness in his tone.

“Yes,” she admitted. “Except that.”

Hutch drank more coffee, silently questioned his partner about the situation and got equally silent encouragement to _keep goin’_. He looked at Gloria again with sympathy. “We do understand the need to protect your grandparents. We love them, too.” Starsky leaned against him and Hutch heard _that was nice, buddy_ in his head. He returned the pressure before addressing her once more. “Tell us about Huggy, and your grandmother, please.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Grampa Hug would be furious if he knew I hadn’t been honest from the beginning. But you see, they’re the most important people in my world and I’m afraid for them. Farpoint is a dangerous place and I needed to be sure you hadn’t changed.” 

“Go on,” Hutch urged, as gently as possible.

She swallowed more coffee. “He and Granny Min got married during the time Starsky and Hutch were… away. As the years went by after they came back, and they never looked any older, Granny and Grampa got concerned. When every so often one of them disappeared and inexplicably showed up again, my grandparents realized they needed to do more than worry.” 

Hutch dropped his gaze to his coffee and nudged Starsky to do the same. 

With them no longer staring at her she seemed to renew her determination. “Both of them have a touch of the ancient arts and know a lot of people in the magical community. With Starsky and Hutch never seeming to age, Granny and Grampa delved deeper.”

Hutch and Starsky drained their mugs. 

Gloria got up, went to the kitchen and came back with the half-full pot, topped off each of the three cups and took the empty carafe back where it came from. When she returned, she appeared to be in complete control again. “Eventually they decided it was a combination of new technologies and very old arcane practices.”

Hutch tried to process everything Gloria was saying. Beside him, he could feel Starsky doing the same.

“Granny Min very carefully dug out all the information she could find on Farpoint. Grampa Hug, after he sold The Pits, made it his life’s work to discover as much as he could about the facility itself. He went out there on countless trips and, before Granny Min retired and could go with him, she worried about him every time, until he got back.”

“That’s how you know the place is a fortress, right?” Hutch asked. “From all Huggy’s trips out there?”

“Yes. He says it’s got vibration and heat sensors buried all around outside the fence. Six Doberman pinschers are let out every night to patrol the grounds so Grampa Hug believes there aren’t any detectors inside; the dogs would set them off. There are no surveillance cameras that he’s ever seen but he thinks they may have a satellite that keeps watch from a stationary orbit with video and infrared capabilities. He was nearly caught one night by a couple of Barstow cops, and he _knows_ he wasn’t seen by anyone on the ground!”

“Wouldn’t that kind of satellite be illegal except for communications and the government? I thought geosynchronous --”

“Isn’t everything they do probably illegal, Starsk?” Hutch gently chided.

His partner nodded and the crooked smile was rueful. “Silly me.”

Gloria laughed. “You guys are as crazy as Granny Min and Grampa Hug claim you always were.” She put her cup down and stood up. “Let’s go see them. I’ll let my Grampa fill you in on the last member of the team.”


	3. Chapter 3

Starsky had dug out as many memories of Huggy Bear Brown as he could while Gloria drove them to the house. Still, he was unprepared for the fiercely tight arms that encompassed him. Or the split-face grin, or the many kisses the elderly black man spread across his cheeks. A trifle flustered, he finally and very gently pushed Huggy away. “Geez, Hug, give a guy a break here.”

Apparently taking no offence, Huggy launched himself at Hutch and repeated the effusive greeting. Over the purple-yellow-and-green-striped shoulder, Hutch smiled at Starsky. 

Huggy stepped back and put a hand to each of their faces, drawing the three of them closer together. “I told Min you guys’d figure it out. And you musta convinced Gloria you haven’t changed too much or she’d never have brought you here.” Tears glittered in his eyes and he dropped his hands, turning away. 

Starsky caught his arm and dragged him into another, less boa constrictor-like embrace. “I think we’ve really missed you, Hug.”

Huggy disengaged himself. “Well, the feelin’ is definitely mutual. When Gloria called, I knew our prayers had been answered. What’re we all standin’ out here for though? Come on in!”

He led the way inside the bungalow. 

Minnie, looking smaller and more fragile than Starsky remembered - well, duh, fifty years older - was walking into the living room from the kitchen. Gloria ran ahead and took a laden tray from her delicate hands. As soon as the burden had been removed, Minnie scooted forward and wrapped Starsky and his partner in her surprisingly strong arms. She pulled them both to her and openly wept.

While enfolded, Starsky noticed Huggy and Gloria push arm chairs close around the coffee table where the tray had been set down. With love in his eyes, Huggy let the reunion continue until Minnie ran out of tears. He took her arm tenderly and sat her down in what was probably her favorite chair before settling himself in the rocker next to her.

Starsky and Hutch sat on the comfortable couch, Starsky making sure they were in contact for as much of their lengths as possible. Only Hutch’s presence close beside him was keeping him grounded.

Gloria looked at each face gathered. “Beer? Or is coffee still the preferred beverage?”

Starsky glanced at Hutch and read the expression. “Beer for us, please.” 

She uncapped two bottles and passed them over.

“You know me, kiddo,” Huggy said.

“Me, too, dear,” Minnie added.

Gloria poured each of them a large cup of coffee and placed them on chair-side tables within easy reach. She took a cup for herself and sat down in a small armchair.

Huggy drank deeply before turning his intense gaze on Starsky and Hutch. “Damn, but it’s good to see you guys!”

Hutch lifted his bottle and cocked it toward their host. “Same here, Huggy.”

“Even if we aren’t really Starsky and Hutch?” Starsky tried to keep his voice from betraying his roiling emotions. This was all getting to be almost too much to absorb: he and his partner were clones; the originals might still be alive; Minnie and Huggy _were_ alive; potentially numerous copies of those first two cops had already been sacrificed on the altar of Find The Bad Guys At Any Cost. And he didn’t know how he really felt about any of it because the lab that had cloned them against their will was, in his opinion, at the top of the heap of Truly Evil People!

Huggy appeared almost offended. “I hope you don’t expect me to dignify that question with an answer. It doesn’t deserve one!”

Starsky ducked his head. “Sorry, Hug.” Hutch put a hand on his arm and Starsky felt the silent understanding and support.

Huggy took another sip. “ So, how’d you figure it out?” His voice was soft and filled with what had to be his own almost-overwhelming emotions.

As briefly as possible, Starsky and Hutch related their recent thinking, discoveries, and the conclusions they’d been forced to accept. Through silent agreement, they neglected to mention their new physical connection.

Minnie saluted them with her cup. “Always knew you two were the best cops I’ve ever met!”

Hutch lifted his bottle in acknowledgement. “Thanks, Min. If we’d had you in the squad room back then, we might never have fallen into their trap.”

“Not ‘we,’ Hutch,” Starsky corrected, “we’re copies.”

Huggy almost choked on his coffee. “Quit that! You’re both as real, as human, as the guys I knew. You’re just different, that’s all. Now we don’t want to hear another word about you two not being the real deal. Is that clear?”

Starsky looked at his partner and Hutch nodded. He sent an embarrassed smile toward the three who’d already helped them so much. “Clear!”

Huggy leaned back in his comfortable chair. “Okay, that’s settled. Now --”

Hutch raised a hand and interrupted. “Gloria said you had another member of the team to tell us about, Hug.” 

“Yeah!” Starsky leaned forward. “I forgot about that. Who else is with us in this little adventure?”

Huggy threw a ‘wish you hadn’t done that’ look at Gloria and she hunched her shoulders. “Sorry, Grampa.”

“Don’t be angry with her, Hug,” Starsky said. “She’s been terrific!”

“I’m not angry, Starsky.” Huggy did appear more flustered than mad. “It’s just that it’s a long story and this isn’t the place to talk about it.”

Quite obviously needing to change the subject, Gloria plastered a bright smile on her face. “You were exactly right, Grampa. You knew what they’d want to do just as soon as they realized what they were, and that Starsky and Hutch might be alive.”

Huggy took a swallow of coffee. “Yeah… I figured they’d want to go out there and stomp all over the place.”

“Gloria tells us that you’ve been there lots of times,” Starsky said.

“That you’ve scouted it,” Hutch added, “know all there is to know.”

“Not sure I know _all_ about it, but I know a hellava lot more than you do!” Huggy put the cup on the table. “Min and I, Gloria… and the fourth person, have been thinking about this for a lotta years.” He reached across the short space and took Minnie’s hand. She gripped his fingers tightly. “And we’ve all worked out a plan, in case you showed up on our doorstep before the wife and I kicked off.”

Starsky tried to hide a gasp and Hutch sucked in a breath. 

Huggy laughed. “At least I ain’t been cloned so when it’s my time, I’ll be the one checkin’ out. Nobody else!”

Minnie’s smile, when she looked at Huggy, was radiant. “We’ve both had a great life. We’re ready to go when it’s time.” Determination suffused her thin face when she looked back at Starsky and Hutch. “But we can’t tell you how glad we are that you’re here. We were beginning to feel as if we’d have to leave the whole thing in Gloria’s and… someone else’s hands.”

“Hers are definitely capable,” Hutch said. “Starsky and I know that.” 

Gloria blushed and drank her coffee.

Huggy snorted happily. “Enough, already! We have to get out to Apple Valley!”

Hutch put his empty bottle on the tray. “What’s in Apple Valley?”

Starsky almost hopped off the couch. “The Roy Rogers Museum!” 

Huggy shook his head sadly. “Long gone, Starsky.”

Starsky’s stomach lurched. “No.” He cast a forlorn look at Hutch. “Any idea what I’m talking about, partner?”

Hutch shook his head. “I know who Roy Rogers was but I don’t know anything about a museum.”

“Gene Autry had his in L.A. at the busy intersection of a few freeways, but Roy and Dale’s was on the I-15, toward Vegas. Uncle Al and Aunt Rose took me to both places.” Starsky turned back to Huggy. “Happy Trails is _gone_?”

Huggy nodded. “‘fraid so.”

Starsky felt as if a significant part of his childhood had disappeared. Although, he quickly realized, as a clone, he’d never had one. “Roy and Dale. Two of my… uh, Starsky’s heroes.”

Hutch patted his knee. “Yours and everybody else’s, buddy. I was a fan, too, but I didn’t know there was a museum.”

Starsky sighed deeply. “It was popular until video tape, the internet, iPads, iPods and everything after that came along, I guess. Fifties television shows probably don’t even exist any longer.”

“No idea about that, Starsky, but hold on to those memories.” Huggy smiled in reminiscence. “They were good ones!”

Starsky nodded. “Yeah, Hug, they were.”

*******

Starsky and Hutch went with Minnie and Huggy in their old mini-van out to the high-desert community northeast of Los Angeles. Gloria, saying she didn’t want to be a fifth wheel in their conversation, insisted on driving her own car.

When they passed the exit that had led to Roy Rogers and Dale Evans’ vanished immortality, Starsky felt his heart break a little; it was a huge shopping mall now. The rearing statue of Trigger that had graced the parking lot was probably a pile of plaster dust, or had been recycled into building materials. Hutch put his arm around him and commiserated wordlessly. 

One exit later they turned off the interstate and followed surface streets out into the sparsely populated desert, finally parking in front of a small but well-kept bungalow. Next to it was a large vehicle with ‘H&M’s Tamales and Burgers’ painted on the side.

Huggy gestured to it proudly. “This has allowed us to get right up to the gate at Farpoint. Come on inside the house though, let’s not stand out here where people might get inquisitive. It’s usually just Min and I who come here.”

He led the way onto the porch, unlocked the door, and escorted them all inside. The living room was inviting if not spacious. Minnie and Gloria immediately headed for the kitchen. 

Huggy pointed to the hallway. “Bathroom’s that way, Starsky.”

Throwing a ‘geeeez’ look at his oldest friend, Starsky made a quick trip to the john. When he came back Huggy was in a rocker and Hutch was sitting on the comfortable-looking couch. Starsky sat next to his partner, so close again that they were touching from shoulder to ankle. He didn’t know exactly why he was still feeling unsettled but he was. Hutch seemed to share his disquiet and Starsky was extremely glad for the support.

“I bought the tamale wagon a long time ago, after I sold The Pits.” Huggy began rocking slowly. “I worked it myself in the beginning because it was years before Minnie got kicked out of her captain’s chair, forced to retire.”

Minnie came into the room at that moment, carrying a tray covered with plates, napkins and utensils. “Gloria’s put two frozen pizzas in the oven.” She placed the tray on the coffee table and sat down next to Huggy, taking his hand. “I didn’t want to leave the department but somebody got a regulation passed that said nobody could wear the uniform after sixty-five.”

“We’d already figured out though,” Huggy went on, “that this caper, taking down Farpoint, was going to be our second careers.”

Gloria came in and sat down in a wing-back chair. “I was in college by that time and thinking about becoming a cop. Granny Min and Grampa Hug filled me in on the whole story and told me of their suppositions. When I managed to get assigned to Metro they asked me to keep an eye on… Starsky and Hutch.” She stared down at her hands. “So I did.”

Starsky figured it was about time they got to the important stuff and threw a no-nonsense look at her. “You didn’t just happen to start talking to Hutch in the cafeteria that day, did you?”

“No. I’d been watching you both and thought Hutch might be beginning to suspect that something was wrong.”

“I sure never thought it could be anything like this,” Hutch admitted.

“What _did_ you think?” Huggy asked.

“I don’t _know_!” Hutch sounded exasperated. 

Starsky put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “Easy buddy. Let’s just take this one step at a time. Okay?”

Hutch nodded and looked at Huggy. “I had questions, because nothing added up. And I realized Starsky and I were missing fifty years of our supposed lives.”

“Ah…” Huggy sighed. “The ol’ missing half century.”

“Last evening, we were in the empty squad room and Hutch asked me what year I was born.” Starsky looked at the three faces staring at him from across the table. “That pretty much got things rolling.”

All three heads nodded but it was Minnie who spoke. “Wish I’d been a fly on the wall and heard that conversation. Having been a witness to some of the back-n-forthing my boys used to do, it makes me smile. And like I said before, they were the smartest cops I’ve ever known. You two have obviously lost none of their abilities or skills.”

“Not their attitudes, either,” Huggy noted. “I can see it in your eyes, m’ brothers. You’re pissed. And you’re gonna do something about it!”

Starsky nodded emphatically. “You got that right, Hug!”

“Okay!” Huggy stood up. “Let’s go in the spare bedroom so I can show you all the goodies we’ve been collecting. You’re gonna love the technology that’s gonna help us blow _their_ technology outta the water!”

“Wait a minute, please.” Hutch sounded slightly irritated and determined. “What about this other member of the team? When do we get to meet him?”

Huggy sat back down, an expression Starsky though could be a smirk across his expressive mouth. “No introductions’ll be necessary, I don’t believe. If you dig back in your collective consciousness, you’ll remember her.” His smirk widened to a knowing grin. “Our other conspirator is Joey Carsten.”

Starsky’s mind was blank for a second before a young face wavered into focus and he tried to keep his jaw from dropping. “Oh, shit.”

Hutch actually laughed. “The irrepressible teenage bundle of trouble? _That_ Joey Carsten?”

*******

Huggy watched Starsky take a bite of his slice of pizza, unmistakably trying to cover his confusion and embarrassment, as well as possibly irritating memories, and exchanged a knowing look with his wife. This Starsky had the same outward appearance as the man they’d known half a lifetime before. He also sounded and, most importantly, _acted_ exactly like him. 

The Blond, too, was the same cool, collected, eminently capable partner to Curly as the original. They nearly took Huggy’s breath away with how incredibly similar they were to his best friends of fifty years earlier. Minnie squeezed his hand; she’d loved them, too.

Hutch wiped his mouth with a napkin and cast a sympathetic glance at his partner before addressing Huggy. “Okay. We’ve all quieted the stomach growls, Huggy. And you’ve kept Starsky on pins and needles long enough. It’s time to tell us about Joey.”

Huggy thought Starsky didn’t look nearly as comfortable with the idea of Joey being involved as Hutch did. She’d been Starsky’s particular burden twice and both times they had come close to losing their lives. No wonder Starsky didn’t look thrilled. 

Gloria went to the kitchen and brought back the second pizza. After it had been passed around and everybody had availed themselves of the offering, Huggy cleared his throat. “Her name’s Joey Carsten-Farthingill now.” He put his plate down, the better to concentrate. “She’s seventy-four and will be the only person awake inside the facility tomorrow night.”

Starsky nearly choked. “You’re shittin’ me, right? Joey’ll _be_ there?”

Huggy stopped rocking. “If you think for a single minute that I’d sit here and lie about something like that, you can get the hell outta here!” He pointed at the front door.

Hutch slipped his arm around Starsky’s shoulders. “That’s not what he meant, Hug, and you know it. Cut the histrionics and just tell us.”

Huggy tamped down his sudden ire; maybe he was more unsettled about the situation than he’d realized. Minnie sent him silent encouragement. “Right.” He forced his thoughts into the best order he could manage. “I should probably let her fill you in herself but I don’t think there’s gonna be time after you get there, so I’ll try to hit the highlights she’s told us about.” He picked up his coffee cup. “She followed your careers closely after your two… uh… encounters. You’re remembering she had quite a crush on you, right, Starsky?”

Starsky ducked his head and took a bite of pizza, fighting the blush creeping up his neck. “Yeah.”

“Wait a minute, please?” Minnie held her hand up as if she were in school and everyone chuckled. Huggy took the hand and nodded for her to continue. “I think we need to agree on some terminology before we really begin because I just found myself getting confused already.” More nods. “First of all, when we refer to the boys Huggy and I knew, let’s call them Dave and Ken. When we talk about the clones, whether it’s the pair that came on the scene three years after Dave and Ken disappeared, or those who replaced one or the other of them many times, we’ll call them Starsky and Hutch.” She looked at the partners’ intense faces. “And that’s who you are to us, Starsky and Hutch. Does that make sense?”

Starsky gave Minnie one of the lop-sided grins that Huggy knew had always melted her heart. “Sounds good to me, Min. Thanks for thinking of that little bit of potential confusion and sorting it out.”

Huggy leaned over and kissed her hand. “Thanks, sweetie.” He kept hold of it and sat back in his chair, rocking slowly. “Well, after Dave and Ken disappeared, Joey came to The Pits and asked me if I knew anything about where they’d gone. And why. I didn’t, but we kept in touch. She dropped around whenever she was in the area and we talked. When the first Starsky and Hutch pair appeared, all three of us were thrilled, but surprised.” He squeezed Minnie’s hand. “Min and I were together by that time, although we kept it under wraps and never told anybody except Joey. Not even Starsky and Hutch. They were so busy with their high-profile cases, we sort of drifted apart. Minnie kept an eye on them at the precinct when she could.”

“That got really difficult,” Minnie continued, “because they weren’t there very much. They went from one undercover gig to another. I hardly ever saw them. What I learned was through the Metro grapevine.”

“Always a reliable source of information,” Hutch commented, dryly, and everyone smiled at the lie.

“Min and I got to be good friends with Joey and the three of us watched your predecessors when we could. Joey said she’d tried to call Starsky a few times but she never got through, and didn’t think he’d even gotten her messages.” 

Starsky shook his head. “This is going to sound really weird but, somehow, I’ve got that guy’s memories. And no, he never did.”

Huggy nodded. “If you get a chance to talk to Joey tomorrow night, I’m pretty sure she can fill you in on why you know everything the other clones knew. For now though, I’ll bet they were keeping as many people who knew Dave and Ken, the ones who weren’t under the glamour anyway…” Huggy stopped and searched the faces of Starsky and Hutch. “Gloria explained glamours, right?”

Starsky finished his piece of pizza and glanced at Hutch before he nodded. “We’re pretty sure we remember the guy who did it, too.”

“Okay then.” Huggy was glad he wouldn’t have to go into that bit of arcanum. “We think anyone who had known Dave and Ken had to be kept away from the replacements, in case they noticed something different.”

“You guys didn’t notice anything though, right?” Hutch looked at Huggy and Minnie as if he wanted them to say they had. 

Huggy shook his head. “Whenever they came in The Pits they seemed to be all right, they didn’t act any different, they didn’t look any different. In fact neither of them ever looked a day older!”

This Starsky and Hutch glanced at each other uneasily and Huggy fought his own confusion. “We began to get really suspicious when the Powers That Be kept putting them in dangerous situations and too many times one or both of them got hurt bad, some even said killed. But then they showed up again, bright and shiny as a new penny.”

“We never saw their names in the papers either,” Minnie said. “As many times as they’d gotten their pictures plastered all over front pages before, it was as if there was a blackout when they returned after those three years.”

Hutch picked up his coffee cup. “You mentioned you think there have been many replacements prior to us, Hug?”

Minnie sat up straight. “I’ll take that one, since I was there at Metro.” She looked directly at Hutch. “Over the last almost-forty years, eleven times that we’re sure of, Starsky or Hutch, a few times both, disappeared from their undercover assignments.” She shook her head. “There’s no way to keep that kind of information completely under wraps. Their contacts on the outside would slip and word got around. Usually they only vanished for a day, other times, it was two. No explanation that anyone in the department heard.”

“And then showed up again in perfect health.” Starsky threw an incredulous look at his partner. “Can you believe those guys, Hutch? They ran their duplicates in and thought nobody’d notice a thing!”

Hutch’s expression was rueful. “Don’t look now, Starsk, but nobody did.” 

Starsky grimaced. “Yeah. You’re right.” 

Hutch looked at Minnie. “How come Joey’s involved all these years later?” 

“And what the hell’s she gonna be doin’ at Farpoint tomorrow night?” Starsky’s frustration sounded like it was beginning to turn to irritation.

Hutch put a hand on his partner’s arm. “Take it easy, Starsk. I’m sure they’re getting to that part.” He glanced at Huggy with appeal. “You are getting there, right?”

“All in good time, m’ brothers,” Huggy soothed. “All in good time.”

Minnie picked up the thread. “Debate about the legality and morality of cloning had made the papers. That gave me, Huggy and Joey something to think and talk about instead of nebulous ideas. Joey told her mother she wanted to go back to college and her mom wrote the checks without a second thought. In less than four years Joey had degrees in both chemical and bio engineering.”

“I always said that was one smart kid!” Starsky muttered.

“I don’t remember your saying that at all, Starsk,” Hutch joked. “You had lots of things to say about her but ‘smart’ wasn’t one of them.”

Everybody laughed and Starsky punched his partner lightly.

“By that time,” Huggy went on, “Starsky and Hutch were still doing their thing, still not showing any age, not slowing down at all. And the three of us became convinced we were watching examples of human cloning.”

“What did you do?” Starsky asked.

Minnie smiled brightly. “Joey’s the one that broke things open for us. She got a job at Farpoint.”

Starsky and Hutch exchanged looks but said nothing.

“Her credentials were immaculate,” Huggy pointed out. “They grabbed her the minute she applied. And within the year she was married to Jason Farthingill.”

“I don’t think she was passionately in love with him,” Minnie added, “but she said he was good to her, and he was her ticket to finding out what was going on at the lab.”

“That sounds more like the Joey I’m remembering.” Starsky quirked a grin at Minnie, taking any sting out of the words. “No offense intended.”

Minnie laughed. “You can tell her yourself tomorrow night and see if she slaps your face.”

“She married Farthingill.” Hutch brought them back on topic. “Then what?” 

Huggy raised his expressive eyebrows. “Then she set about sabotaging as much of their research and as many of their projects as she possibly could without getting caught.”

“Jason’s partner, Ned Pointerly,” Minnie said, “apparently didn’t like Joey and she absolutely hated him! Joey thinks he suspected she was working against them but could never prove it. And Farthingill was devoted to her, meaning she was relatively safe.”

“I am glad of that.” Starsky turned to his partner. “You got the names, right, Hutch?”

Hutch nodded. “Farthingill and Pointerly… Farpoint. Yeah, Starsk, I got it.”

Huggy saw the intimate smile they shared and wondered if these two clones had taken the partnership farther than he thought Dave and Ken might have. Hmmmmmmmmmm. Getting himself back on track, he continued the story. “Farthingill died ten years ago leaving Joey his half of the company. Since then, she’s been keeping her head down - well as much as Joey Carsten ever could - and helping Min and me, and Gloria when she came into it, make our plans.”

“You see,” Minnie squeezed Huggy’s hand again, “we needed to wait until a Starsky and Hutch pair figured things out for themselves. We’re going to liberate all the clones still at the facility and knew it would be too difficult for the ones currently on the force, if they didn’t already know what they were. And what was going on.” She glanced at her granddaughter with love. “Gloria’s been keeping eyes on them ever since she joined the department, letting us know if one disappeared and another showed up, or if any of them began to act as if they were getting suspicious. She told us last week that she thought the current Hutch…” she sent a smile to the Blond, “you, were beginning to catch on.”

Huggy smiled, too. “We’ve been keeping our fingers crossed that she was right.”

Minnie nodded. “Last year Joey managed to introduce a strain of contamination into all the clones who weren’t Starsky and Hutch. They’ve always been separated from the rest as a DOD requirement, due to the covert nature of that project. She says Pointerly has kept the information about the failures of the others from all the important people who agreed to be copied. If they found out, he’d probably lose most of his illicit funding and support.”

“Are we supposed to feel sorry for the guy?” Starsky didn’t even try for sympathy in his voice.

Hutch nudged his partner’s arm and waited until Starsky’s glum expression had softened before he looked again at Minnie. “The clones of Dave and Ken are the only ones left?” 

“Yes,” Gloria answered. She glanced at her grandparents, “I should tell them, right?” They nodded so she turned back to Starsky and Hutch. “The three of us agree, and Joey’s with us on this, that we refuse to terminate them. They’re completely innocent in this mess. They have a right to their lives if we can manage to give it to them!”

“Shit, guys.” Starsky grinned almost maniacally at Hutch. “What’s the world gonna do with more than two of us?”

“Don’t worry about that, Starsky,” Gloria chortled. “Joey has it all figured out because she’s had nearly forty years to plan. Wait ‘til you get there!”

“I still don’t understand why she’d involve herself directly.” Starsky was definitely not satisfied with how things had been explained. “Won’t she be in trouble if anyone sees her helping us?”

Huggy shook his head. “Naw, Starsky, that’s the beauty of this plan, and the place you’re going into. You see, all the equipment in Farpoint is so automated and backed up in triplicate that a single night watchman’s all that’s needed. Plus the gate guard outside. The watchman’s responsible for letting the dogs out after everyone’s left, and bringing them back in before the morning shift shows up. Ever since Joey cut her work schedule to three days a week, she’s been alternating Sunday nights with the other watchman. Just to keep her hand in, she says. When what she really means is, she’s been using the time there, by herself, to get the Starsky and Hutch clones ready for activation, and the facility ready for destruction.”

“What? Wait a minute.” Hutch must not have been prepared for that detail. “You’re saying she’s going to blow the place up?” 

“Think about it, Hutch.” Minnie’s tone was calm and rational. “She needs to make sure the cloning technology Farpoint’s perfected doesn’t get into the wrong hands. And she wants to alert the authorities on all levels to what’s been going on. The people who have taken any part in the lab’s illegal activities, the high mucky-mucks that have had themselves cloned, the covert government agencies, the BCPD officials who’ve been going along with it from the beginning; they all need to be taken down.”

“Won’t she be in trouble though?” Starsky was plainly worried about Joey. “She’s been a part of at least some of that.”

Huggy shrugged. “She’s half owner of the place, Starsky, and has powerful friends of her own. But more importantly, she’ll be the whistle blower. And she’ll be turning over all her data. They’ll have to grant her immunity.”

“Okay,” Starsky mused. “That sounds good,” 

“You implied she has the whole place rigged.” Hutch’s voice betrayed his uncertainty. “She’s an explosives expert, too?” 

Huggy shrugged. “I’ve come to believe there isn’t much on God’s green earth that Joey Carsten can’t do!”

Hutch and Starsky stared at each other again and the connection that had always amazed everyone who knew them sent shivers up Huggy’s spine. Hutch finally looked away from the cobalt gaze and glanced at everyone else in the room. “I guess we’ll see tomorrow night, won’t we?’

Happy to have that subject dispensed with, Huggy got up. “You fellas ready to get your hands on what we’ve got for ya?”

Starsky jumped to his feet. “Right behind you, Hug.

“When you see this stuff keep in mind that Joey’s paid for and provided every bit of it.” He threw a sly look back over his shoulder. “She’s the reason why Minnie and I, and now Gloria, have absolutely no money worries either. We’re all in high cotton thanks to that generous lady.”


	4. Chapter 4

It was nearly daylight before Starsky hadn’t heard a sound from anyone in the house for long enough that he felt safe creeping to the twin bed on the other side of the room. Hutch wasn’t asleep and opened his arms to him. 

Starsky crawled in and snuggled. He had so many thoughts racing around in his head he really only wanted to hold onto the lithe frame in his embrace. With so many potential ears in the little, probably-paper-thin-walled house, any urge to indulge in sex was swamped under mental wet blankets. If they managed to live through the next twenty-four hours, he and Hutch would probably lavish each other with all the loving they could invent. For now, Starsky needed to talk about some things. “Joey… I can’t get my head around the fact that little Joey Carsten’s involved in this.”

“She may still be little, Starsk, but from what Huggy, Minnie and Gloria say, she’s a formidable woman now. Probably more than a match for both of us.”

“Yeah.” Starsky couldn’t stifle a soft laugh. “She ruined the viability of that whole batch of CEO and political clones! Do you believe that?”

Hutch chuckled into his hair, making Starsky shiver. “Oh, yeah. And if you think about it, you believe it, too.”

Starsky nodded against the smooth, muscular chest. “She was a fire cracker wasn’t she? Guess that hasn’t changed.”

“And thanks to her, Ned Pointerly’s attempts to clone himself were destroyed.”

“Wonder how she managed it?”

“We’ll try and remember to ask her.” Hutch drew him closer and kissed his temple. “But as co-owner of the facility with years of experience in bio and chemical engineering, I’ll bet it wasn’t too much of a challenge.”

Starsky shivered. “We can’t let anything happen to her, Hutch.”

“We won’t.” Hutch rubbed a hand up and down Starsky’s arm. “Try to sleep for a while. Today’s going to be a long one.”

“I’m just thinking about what Huggy said when we talked about the terminations. About how they weren’t really people.”

“If everything Gloria’s been reading is true, clones don’t have brain, heart or lung function until they’re activated. They’re not alive, as we know it.” Starsky felt another kiss on his temple. “I don’t have any problem with it. You shouldn’t either.”

“Guess so.” Starsky snuggled closer, determined to forget everything and get some sleep. “Thanks, buddy.”

“My pleasure.”

*******

Hutch stretched his legs out in the aisle. The rear portion of the tamale wagon they were all riding in didn’t provide much space. Huggy, Minnie and Gloria were in the front while he and Starsky were on the floor in the back, crammed between all the equipment and paraphernalia necessary to cook and serve food from a movable vehicle. Bright white illumination came from a swinging Coleman lantern. Since the side panel that was always up when customers were being served had been battened down and sealed tightly, the light shouldn’t be visible from outside. 

There wasn’t much room so Hutch had put his arm around Starsky’s shoulders and they’d found reasonable comfort leaning against the cabinets below the grill that took up the wall behind the driver’s compartment. 

“Sorry Huggy gave up The Pits but, for a second career, this is a damn good cover.” Starsky squirmed and tightened his arms around Hutch.

Hutch began to rub his partner’s shoulder and back. “Joey knows we’re coming and, if we can get past the gate guard, the fence, and the dogs, she’ll have the door open for us.”

“Easier than trying to finesse a sixteen-digit security code and trying to fake retinal and palm scans.”

Hutch chuckled. “Gives a whole new meaning to ‘inside job,’ doesn’t it?”

“One I’m very happy with this time, partner.”

“We drop Huggy off first and he runs around to the east side of the fence and drugs the Dobermans.” 

“Why doesn’t she just keep ‘em inside tonight?”

“I didn’t think to ask, but probably because it would alert the gate guard.”

“You’re right. It would.” Starsky shivered and snuggled closer. “The vibration sensors are bound to register Huggy’s footsteps.”

“His suit, remember?” Hutch ran his fingers into the dense, curly hair. “Plus, he’s skinny. Whoever’s monitoring will think it’s only the large animal the satellite’s seeing.” 

“We hope.”

“Yes, we do.”

Starsky looked up at him. “What if one or more of the dogs is a light sleeper? Joey says they’re pussy cats but --”

“Huggy knows what he’s going.”

Starsky settled again. “How long did he say he’d been bringing this roach coach out here?”

Hutch snorted, as he knew Starsky expected him to. “Tamale wagon, Starsk. Please, have a little respect for Huggy’s efforts.”

Starsky dropped his humorous tone. “God, Hutch, I’m in awe of everything these guys’ve accomplished!” He sounded sincere and Hutch believed him. “How long though?”

“Years. Long enough that each of the gate guards and all the lab workers began looking forward to his lunchtime visits.”

“Guess he had to be really careful, gradually getting everyone used to him showing up three times a week.” Starsky shifted a little, probably getting uncomfortable on the hard floor. “No sense in making anyone suspicious.”

“And little by little,” Hutch mused, “while they stood outside his truck and he cooked their lunches, Huggy chatted them up and verified everything Joey’d told him about the sensors and the dogs, not to mention the satellite, which they’d only suspected. A good bartender can always learn more from his customers than they think they’re telling. And we both remember Huggy was a good bartender!”

Starsky chucked. “Is it any wonder he was our best source of information? He can find out anything!”

“Did you hear him say he’s made a pretty good living at it?”

Starsky laughed out loud. “No, I didn’t. But I’m glad.”

“Me, too.” Starsky shifted again and Hutch drew him closer. “Relax, babe. Minnie said it’ll take at least two hours to get there. You didn’t get much sleep and we don’t want you all cramped up.”

Starsky huffed. “Neither did you! By the time Huggy had shown us the gadgets, cold suits, dog whistles and frozen drugged meat he’s stockpiled, explained his supposedly simple plan, which I know you thought sounded as complicated as I did…”

“Walked us through the maneuvers with the trap door in here, and Minnie and Gloria had assured us, countless times, they wouldn’t be in any danger while playing their parts…”

“It was near daylight.” 

Hutch remembered the interlude afterward. “When you came to my bed I was so wired I could hardly concentrate on what we were whispering about.”

Starsky looked up at him. “Really? You sure did a good job of acting then. Guess there’s more I need to discover about you, Blondie. You were all calm acceptance getting me settled down and ready to go to sleep.”

“Good.” Hutch had to laugh. “I never thought I’d say this but I believe we all drank entirely too much coffee.”

“Kept us going though, didn’t it?”

“That,” Hutch agreed, “and the great meals Huggy and Minnie put together. Neither of us has eaten like that in a long time, buddy!”

“I think they both wanted us fueled up for tonight.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised. After all the pot roast I ate though, I hope my suit still fits.” Hutch couldn’t help thinking about the full-body coverings he and Starsky would be wearing. The inside layer was thin, incredibly flexible and guaranteed to block body heat from being detected by infrared sensors on the ground or in orbit. The outer layer was dead-night-black and anyone shrouded in it was reputed to be invisible in the dark from two feet away. The moon wasn’t due to rise that night until past the time they’d either be well away from the facility, or captured. And predicted partial cloud cover would dull the lumens from a billion stars not being dimmed by light pollution out here in the desert. Full-face hoods, gloves and booties of the same materials completed the ‘they’ll never see us coming’ costumes. 

Starsky undid one of Hutch’s buttons and ran his fingers inside his shirt. It sent chills through Hutch’s body. “Uh… Starsk… what are you doing?”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I’m only distracting myself with the most interesting object I can reach.”

“Well, maybe we better both sit up.” Hutch put very little effort into disentangling himself from Starsky’s grasp though, because the rough ride and considerable rattling of truck parts made him curious. “Do you remember if Huggy said how old this contraption is?” 

“No. But it sounds like it’s more ancient than we’re supposed to be.”

“I’m not sure they had roach coaches in those days, Starsk.”

“Tamale wagon,” Starsky corrected, snidely, opening another button. 

Hutch put a hand firmly over Starsky’s moving one. “Let’s concentrate on what we’re going to do once we get inside the building, okay? I don’t think making out in the back of this vehicle will help us when we get there.”

“Spoil sport.” Starsky leaned up and kissed Hutch’s chin. “All right, assuming we’ve managed to drop down through the bottom of this truck softly enough to avoid alerting any ground sensors in the vicinity…”

“And have crept over or across all the others between the road and the fence…”

“Lasered the wires…” Starsky went on.

“And crawled slowly enough that our movement isn’t picked up by the satellite…”

“All the way to the door, where Joey’ll be waiting for us...”

Hutch didn’t manage to keep the mental sigh from becoming audible. “Yes. Assuming all that, it’ll be a piece o’ cake from there on.”

Starsky sat up and leaned against Hutch’s shoulder. “From Huggy’s side of the conversation with Joey it sounded like she had a feeling tonight would be the night and had already arranged with the other Sunday watchman to switch weeks with him.”

“I guess being a co-owner and still part-time researcher, has its perks.”

“She knows approximately what time we’ll be getting there,” Starsky doggedly continued. “She’ll be waiting for us with the door open and I’m pretty darn sure she’ll have a plan worked out from that point. This is really her show, after all.”

“You’re right.” Hutch pulled his partner close again. “We can’t mess this up, though, Starsk. Huggy, Minnie, Gloria, Joey… they’ve all put so many years into --”

“Hey!” Starsky put his hands on either side of Hutch’s face and Hutch felt his eyes drawn deeply into those of his partner. His new lover. “These people have devoted themselves to this. All we can do is follow ‘em. And do the very best we can.”

Hutch lightly kissed the offered lips. “I’ve certainly never seen more determination than those three faces showed last night.”

“I have.” Starsky stared at him and Hutch had no difficulty recognizing the love and commitment in the amazing indigo eyes. “On yours.”

“We have a vested interest,” Hutch pointed out. “All Huggy and the others have is a memory of friendship”

Starsky settled back. “Let’s not make ourselves any crazier than we already are, okay? For whatever reasons they each have, they’re helping us. Or we’re helping them. I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“I know what you mean.”

“I agree with you, too. We can’t get Gloria and Joey in trouble and we can’t ruin the last years of Huggy’s and Minnie’s lives.”

Hutch stroked the convenient arm. “Let’s go over the plan one more time.”

“Honestly, Hutch, you’re worse than my Aunt Rose when she’s worried about something.” Starsky shook his head in mock disgust but dutifully began the recitation. “Huggy gets dropped off a mile before we reach the entrance gate…”

“Only access, right?”

“Yeah. Allows them to control everybody in or out.”

“Do we know if the government ever needs to get onto the property? It being part of the old Fort Irwin?”

Starsky grunted. “Can’t imagine they do. Didn’t Huggy tell us Farpoint bought the south half after most of the military reservation was decommissioned?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I forgot.” Hutch buried a kiss in curly hair. “Thanks, partner.”

“Just doin’ m’ job.” Starsky’s tone was as light as the situation allowed.

Hutch leaned his head back. “I can’t think of anything anybody’s overlooked. Can you?”

“Nope.” Suddenly, Starsky shivered. “Doesn’t this whole thing sound just a little too much like science fiction?”

“Not really. Remember, computers, space stations, and cloning were in that category until about the final quarter of the last century.”

“Good point.”

*******

The tamale wagon was stationary. According to the plan, it would be in the middle of a short bridge over a gully that ran under a two-lane road a mile from the lab. Huggy had told Starsky and Hutch that, even if they could see outside, there’d be no lights in sight. Apparently it was the proverbial Nowhere and stealth ruled. 

There was an almost inaudible knock on the bottom of the trap door in the center of the aisle. Before he lifted the hatch, Starsky stood up and turned the knob on the lantern to its lowest setting so that light wouldn’t spill out from under the truck. Huggy stuck his smiling face up through the opening. 

Starsky helped quietly get the slender man inside, then silently lowered the door. Huggy dragged a large duffle bag out from under the counter and opened it. The high-tech suits were pulled out, clothes were shed and the black garb donned. No one said a word; there was no sound other than fabric being tugged over skin. The cramped space made it difficult but no one complained. Starsky and Hutch put their holsters back on over the suits. The guns themselves and all leather pieces had been blackened to avoid any possible reflection. The consensus was that they wouldn’t need them in the facility but neither had been willing to leave them behind.

Starsky couldn’t help but smile at the difference between Huggy’s outfit and theirs. Although it wasn’t apparent from the outside, Starsky knew the inner layer that blocked heat was missing so that the satellite would be able to ‘see’ him. But there was special paint on the night-dark back, head, arms and legs in the shape of an animal that, crouched over while he ran, would be seen by infrared sensors. “You really think whoever’s monitoring the satellite is going to believe you’re a coyote?” he whispered.

“It’s worked before, Starsky!” Huggy hunched his shoulders and grimaced, lowering his voice. “Sorry about how loud that came out.”

“He didn’t intend any offense, Hug,” Hutch said, sotto voce. 

Huggy shrugged and matched his voice level with Hutch’s. “I know.” He sent a silent apology to Starsky. “It’s how I’ve gotten close enough to get the dogs used to my whistle and meat. I’ve increased the dose of sleepy-time drugs for tonight, of course. Joey says they’re not vicious but, if somebody was inside the fence when they weren’t s’posed to be, who knows what they’d do?” He pulled on his second glove. “You both better hope this suit works. I can’t possibly crawl that far and if I’m not in position, with all the dogs gathered to my whistle and chowing down on my double-doubles, you won’t have a prayer of makin’ it past the fence without rousin’ ‘em. An’ if that happens, this’ll all have been for a big fat nothin’! Joey can’t do the rest o’ the operation by herself and you can’t help her until you reach the door.”

Starsky put out a calming hand. “We know, Hug. Hutch and I’ve been over everything a dozen times on our way out here. I was just being a wiseass.”

Huggy shook his head, probably remembering countless times, years ago, when Dave had been just such a wiseass. He took a black bag from the duffle that Starsky knew contained a dog whistle and the drugged meat, hung it around his neck and zipped it inside his suit. “Hope they haven’t forgotten they like my burgers.” 

Starsky stuck his hand out and Huggy gripped it. “Take care of yourself out there, Hug.”

“Will do.” Huggy shook Hutch’s hand as well. “You two take care of Joey and each other inside, okay?” With a grin in the middle of his hood-covered face, he threw a salute. “Catch ya on the flip side.” He pulled up the trap door, lowered it silently behind him, and disappeared. An approximation of a coyote howl was heard and the tamale wagon began its mechanically-engineered sputtering way off the bridge.

Starsky stared at the lid in the floor. “The satellite will see an animal appear on the road, supposedly having crawled out from under the bridge while the truck was stopped.”

“That’s the plan.” Hutch didn’t sound quite as positive as Starsky hoped he would. “It’s going to take us at least half an hour to stop and start our way to the gate. Huggy’ll have that time to lope along the arroyo next to the road and around to the east side of the fence where he’ll call the critters and put them to sleep.” 

“God,” Starsky breathed, “I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

*******

A switch on the wagon’s dashboard that, per plan, Huggy had flipped before he crawled to the back caused the engine to sputter, stop, start again, and grind along the final mile to the gate. It might have been arduous for Minnie and Gloria but the waiting was torture for Starsky and Hutch. When the truck finally labored to a full, extended stop, they slipped out through the trapdoor and crept to the side of the road so slowly that they hoped it would be impossible for the overhead watcher to detect movement. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Starsky saw the guard come out of his hut and approach on the far side of the gate. He was wearing a holstered sidearm and some sort of walkie-talkie but seemed friendly enough.

“Whatcha doin’ out here so late, Miz Brown?” 

“We’re in trouble, Rick.” Minnie’s voice was laced with distress. “Our truck has been giving us nothing but grief and this place was the closest.” She pulled a seemingly reluctant Gloria up next to her. “You know Gloria, my granddaughter, don’t you? Gloria, this is Rick.”

Rick approached closer, studying Gloria. “Don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

Gloria held her hand out but drew it back as if realizing they wouldn’t be able to shake through the fence. She appeared flustered and embarrassed. “We need your help, sir.”

Rick took a step back. “Please don’t ask me to open the gate, Miz Brown. I can’t.”

“Please, Rick, just listen for --”

“Nothin’ I can do I’m afraid, ladies. I’m not allowed to open up for anybody after Mr. Pointerly leaves, and he’s been gone for hours! Can’t let nobody use my communications equipment either.”

“But Rick --” Minnie began.

“Nobody, ma’am. Those are the rules and, since I need to keep my job, I can’t break ‘em.” The tone of his voice was sympathetic but firm. 

Starsky, with Hutch right beside him, kept moving, albeit painstakingly slowly, and had finally managed to get out of the dim red light from the guardhouse. Huggy had told them that red light didn’t ruin Rick’s night vision and Starsky knew that would have to be a consideration for someone trying to keep watch in darkness. 

He and Hutch were now approaching the fence, about twenty yards to the side of the shack. Rick’s, Minnie’s and Gloria’s voices, the ladies’ getting more agitated and Rick’s getting more obstinate all the time, still reached them. Starsky heard Minnie say, “Our cell phones have died, we can’t call anyone.” Gloria whined, “All the food will spoil if we don’t get back to town within the next few hours.” “Please, Rick,” Minnie begged, “can’t you make just one little phone call for us?” “No, ma’am. I told you.” “My Grampa’ll be worried sick.” Gloria sounded as if she was in tears. “Are you sure you can’t make an exception. Just this once? Please?”

When Starsky and Hutch reached the fence, Hutch had the high-tech laser cutter ready. Using his body as a shield, to keep the guard from seeing the tiny spot of brilliant red light the device produced when severing each link, he made a hole in the barrier large enough to accommodate them. Starsky was sure Minnie’s and Gloria’s voices had covered the almost inaudible hiss and they all fervently hoped the satellite’s infrared capability didn’t extend to seeing the minute specs of heat. Hutch put the handy little item into a zippered chest pocket.

With the raised, harried and pleading voices fading behind them, Hutch led the slow-as-molasses uphill progress across the fifty yards or so of grass and paved drive toward the plain door in the plain building. There was no illumination outside, no signage that identified the facility. It was unlikely that anyone ever came here unless they already knew where they were.

A tiny green light showed at the bottom of the keypad on the wall and the door was open a crack. Starsky sent a ‘whew’ look at Hutch and stood up. His partner climbed to his feet next to him as the door was pulled fully open from inside. It looked like the mouth of a cave but hands reached out, drew them in, and closed the door.

Ceiling lights came on and showed a long corridor with glass doors on either side. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls offered a glimpse of lab and computer equipment in every room.

Joey Carsten stood in front of them, looking like an older version of the precocious young woman Dave had known more than fifty years previously. Only a few wrinkles around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth spoke to the time that had passed. 

Starsky tore his hood off, threw his arms around her and picked her up off her feet.

“Dave! Put me down! I’m old enough to be your grandmother!”

Starsky laughed and spun her around before doing as she said. He stepped back and grinned at his partner while he took his gloves off. “Look at her, Hutch. It’s the same feisty, opinionated, self-important, sticky-fingered squirt I felt like taking over my knee and paddling when she had a crush on me that nearly got us both killed.” 

He nailed her with a stern look as he stuffed the hand- and head-coverings in a thigh pocket, noticing that Hutch had shed and stored his own items similarly.

She stepped back and fisted her hands on her lab-coated hips. “I did no such thing, Dave Starsky. I’ll have you know I…” She trailed off, realizing he’d been putting her on. Her face cleared and she smiled at him and Hutch. “I’m so glad you’ve come. Huggy and Minnie were beginning to think --”

“We know,” Hutch broke in. “We’ve been talking about nothing else since yesterday.” He looked around nervously. “Can we please get this show on the road, Joey? Starsky and I aren’t comfortable enough to want to hang around longer than absolutely necessary.”

She sobered immediately and turned toward the door at the far end of the corridor. “I understand.” She led the way. “And I apologize for making things more confusing by calling you Dave.” She patted Starsky’s arm almost as if she were his grandmother. “Huggy said we’re calling the guys downstairs Dave and Ken, and that everyone else is Starsky and Hutch.” She looked over her shoulder at each of them as if wanting confirmation.

Starsky shrugged, hoping to ease all their nerves. “Whatever.” 

“Okay!” She continued toward the end of the hallway. “There’s a conference room on the first basement level next to my office where we can at least be comfortable while I explain some things.”

Starsky glanced into the rooms they passed, each one a lab of some sort, crammed with machines and equipment he knew he’d never have a chance to learn about. And maybe that was just as well. 

When they were about ten feet from the door, it opened. Standing in the frame was a tall, gray-haired man wearing an unbuttoned lab coat over a silvery gray suit. His right hand held a small black automatic aimed directly at Joey.

Joey stopped in her tracks. “Ned.”


	5. Chapter 5

Starsky felt his insides go cold but before he could react, what felt like the muzzle of a gun was pressed into the back of his neck. “Not a muscle or you, your partner, and Mrs. Farthingill are dead.”

Starsky didn’t move a muscle and neither did Hutch. The man behind Starsky took his Beretta before taking Hutch’s Python. He slipped both into the pockets of his bright white coat. “Clutch pieces?” he snarled. “Either of you carrying one?”

Hutch shook his head while Starsky dropped his gaze to the front of his own skin-tight suit. “Where would we?” Hutch snickered but the person behind them must have been lacking a sense of humor.

If the guy in the doorway was Ned Pointerly, Starsky figured he had to be at least ninety. Possibly older since he and Farthingill had established this facility sometime in the seventies. He sure was well-preserved if that was the case. Maybe cloning wasn’t the only research going on here.

Joey glanced over her shoulder at the man standing behind them. “Ned.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Starsky noticed that the guy who had taken their guns looked, and was dressed exactly like the man in front. Another Ned Pointerly.

Joey faced forward again, appearing calm and collected. “I thought none of your clones had ever lived.”

“You mean you thought you’d destroyed them.” The man shook his head and Starsky wouldn’t have been surprised to hear a ‘tsk, tsk’. “Don’t bother denying it, I know it was you.” When Joey said nothing he reached out his free hand and punched a button on the wall next to the door. Within seconds the wall section split and slid open, revealing what was probably an elevator. 

The Ned behind them shoved Starsky and he stumbled into Hutch, then Joey. Managing to keep their balance by holding onto each other, the three walked in, followed by the two Neds, their guns trained on Joey. Starsky realized, and with a glance at Hutch knew he did, too, that if either of them tried anything Joey would be the first one to pay. Starsky decided to let things play out a little. A very slight pressure from Hutch’s shoulder told him that his partner was on the same page.

Neds One and Two, Starsky wasn’t sure which was which now, kept their backs to the door while Starsky and the others turned around. The Ned on their right had pockets bulging with ill-gotten weapons so he had to be Ned Two. 

Ned One pressed a button on the floor-indicator panel. The door swished closed and the enclosure began to descend. “I heard you mention the conference room, Joey. That’s a fine idea.” 

The descent didn’t take long. Ned One backed out when the doors opened, while the other stepped to the side. Ned One motioned the captives to exit and start down the new corridor. 

Starsky glanced behind and saw the second Ned bringing up the rear, his attention now focused on Joey’s back. Ned One grabbed her arm and pressed the muzzle of his gun to her temple. “No tricks or you die first.” 

As far as Starsky could see she didn’t even flinch. Tough kid, he reminded himself.

Fully composed, she moved to a set of double doors in the left hand wall, pushed them open wide and walked inside. She rounded an oblong table and took a seat at the head, motioning for Starsky and Hutch to sit on either side of her. Shrugging his compliance at Hutch, Starsky did as she invited, on her left, with Hutch taking the chair on her right.

The Neds stood just inside the open doors, their weapons still pointing unwaveringly at Joey. Ned One smiled as evil a smile as Starsky had ever seen. “I knew you were trouble the minute I set eyes on you.”

“Ah,” Joey sighed. “Thank you for confirming which one of you is the turd and which the sub-turd.”

Anger flushed both the Neds’ faces but the original put out a hand and settled his clone, never taking his dark eyes from his adversary. “Nice try. But you’ll find, Joey, that neither my… brother nor I can be so easily distracted.” He moved forward and took a seat at the end of the table opposite Joey, leaving his duplicate in the entryway behind him. “I knew you were sabotaging projects but I could never prove it. Jason was besotted and wouldn’t listen to a word I said.”

“Jason was a man of discernment. You, on the other hand, are a crass, mean-spirited, annoying, greedy, power-hungry megalomaniac.”

Pointerly shook his head. “Sticks and stones, my dear. I’m so far past and above such things you’ll never touch me.”

“Why are you here tonight?” She sounded totally unconcerned, as if she was simply making idle conversation. 

“I’ve known for a long time you had something planned. I’ve just been waiting for you to make your move.” He smiled, showing entirely too many perfect teeth to Starsky’s way of thinking. “When you called Roberts and asked to switch nights with him, I knew my waiting was over.”

Joey put the palms of her hands together a few times in soundless applause. “Congratulations. I thought you’d left but…” she glanced at Ned Two, “I suppose that was the dupe.”

“Exactly! My brother lives in Barstow and comes and goes as me. I never leave.” He waved a casual hand. “No one ever sees us together, of course, so no one knows he exists.” Pointerly laid his gun on the table in front of him and leaned back. “Shortly after Jason and I took over this facility from the military, he left on a year-long fund-raising mission. While he was gone, I took the opportunity during renovation to add a sub-basement. When finished, it remained sealed and unused until I had time to eliminate every worker who had taken any part in the construction. There is even a full-sized tunnel rising to a bunker next to the old army road that leads to Barstow. That’s the way my brother came back tonight. It’s closed to the public and no one can get in from that end without the codes.” 

Pointerly sat up, spreading his hands in a gesture that said he knew how futile her efforts had ultimately been. “The entrance to my level is so secret that you, in all your ferreting about after you came, never discovered it. I’m quite proud of that.”

She raised her eyebrows, giving the appearance of being impressed with his achievement. “And here I thought I’d been so thorough.”

“So you almost were!” He sent waves of phony respect back at her. “You found each of my hidey-holes I didn’t care if you discovered. You just never found that one.” He leaned back in his chair again. “It’s where I do my own research. Where I was finally able to create my double, away from your irritating machinations. It’s also where I’ve perfected the drugs that have kept me in my youthful condition. Believe me, I’ve made piles of extra money off my formulas. You’d be surprised at how many people want a Fountain of Youth.”

“We’ve been here before,” Hutch muttered and Starsky nearly laughed out loud.

Pointerly ignored the comment and continued, his tone and expression bland. “You and I, Joey, have avoided close contact with each other since Jason died, so you probably weren’t even aware of my appearance.” He stared at her for a full five seconds. “Were you?” She didn’t move or make a sound and he laughed. “Wonderful! That makes me even happier. Why, I feel so exceptionally well right this minute, I may decide to live forever!”

Starsky snorted. “Another one o’ those.” He rolled his eyes at Hutch, who looked away, probably to keep from laughing.

“I’ve watched your ‘coyote’ running around outside, you know.” Pointerly sounded so smug Starsky wanted to wipe the smirk off his face with his bare hands. “I monitor our satellite from my living quarters downstairs.” He was clearly enjoying himself. “I believed that suit of his the first time I saw it. Even called the cops to come and shoot him but he disappeared. The next time he showed up, I waited. And when all my dogs gathered near him at the fence, then supposedly went to sleep for a couple of hours, I grew more curious and attentive. He never did anything though so I simply watched. Tonight, already knowing you had switched with Roberts, I wasn’t surprised when that food truck showed up. You should have told your accomplices that I’m not stupid enough to miss the fact that it was there, at the bridge, every time the coyote appeared.”

“Guess we were overly confident.” Joey still sounded unconcerned.

Pointerly sat forward and nailed Joey with hatred. “I knew tonight would bring you into my hands. My twin and I have been waiting, discussing what we should do with you. It was such a riveting conversation, with so many possibilities, we almost missed the arrival of your animal.” He gestured over his shoulder, including his clone in the joviality. “We thoroughly enjoyed watching his antics, although he’s not as swift as he used to be.” His expression took on a patently false sympathy. “Getting old must be a bitch.”

“As old and slow as he is, I’m glad he provided entertainment.” Joey laced her fingers on the table in front of her. “And what decision did you and your brother come to?” She gestured toward Starsky and Hutch. “Are you planning to eliminate all of us and then insert new editions of these officers at Metro?”

“But of course. My contract with covert members of the defense community requires that I continue that operation. You must admit it’s gone splendidly all these years. Corrupt federal agents and the various chiefs of the BCPD saw an unlimited supply of expendables for their more dangerous ops." As if remembering an important point, he seemed to backtrack. "Harold Dobey was the only chief we had to work around but we managed, and the glamour kept him from knowing what we were doing. They all paid us royally to perfect the process and then to keep them supplied. They never found better candidates than these two though.” Pointerly glanced dismissively at Starsky and Hutch. “So we were limited in that respect.”

“My heart bleeds for ya.” Starsky’s voice betrayed his contempt and he heard his partner’s silent, _good one, buddy_.

Pointerly didn’t bother to brush the words aside, he continued to lord his superiority and control of the situation over Joey. “And since I have the original detectives safely on ice here, I’ll never run out of their clones. The DOD is considering altering their appearance as I produce them, before they’re activated, so that other uses can be made of them. No sense wasting the resource.”

Starsky found himself staring at Pointerly, wondering how a man became so evil. Was he born that way? Was it his childhood? Parents? Peers? His attention strayed to the clone standing behind Ned One, the expression on his face exactly matching that of his ‘brother.’ 

When figures appeared soundlessly in the hallway behind Ned Two, Starsky forced himself not to show the slightest reaction. Hutch’s foot found his under the table and the pressure told him Hutch was aware of their presence. Starsky’s heart beat faster and he clenched his fists in his lap. Maybe he’d get the chance to knock the stuffing out of Ned One after all.

Joey, who was facing the Neds and the hallway, rose to her feet as if she were a queen and had decided the audience had come to its end. “Your reign is over, Pointerly.”

A pair of figures behind Ned Two rushed in and disarmed him before he knew they were there. They shoved him farther into the room.

Ned One reached for his own weapon but both Starsky and Hutch lunged. Hutch slid across the table and got there first. He picked up the gun, removed the clip and emptied the chamber. All the items went into his second thigh pocket.

The rest of the people from the corridor crowded into the room. There were five pairs of Starsky and Hutch clones, plus an extra Starsky. They were dressed in clothes that fit them perfectly and were different enough from each other that they could be told apart. Joey had apparently used her spare time constructively.

One of the pairs searched Ned Two, the Hutch half finding another small gun and a switchblade. He shoved them into large pockets in his black safari jacket while the Starsky half found Starsky’s and Hutch’s weapons. He moved carefully around Ned One and handed Hutch’s Python back to him before making his way to Starsky and returning his Beretta. 

Starsky held Hutch’s eyes while they holstered their weapons. The look on his partner’s face probably matched the one on his own; the whole scenario was becoming curiouser and curiouser.

Ned Two was shoved none too gently over to stand next to Ned One, who had pushed his chair back and risen, rigid. Their matched furious gazes never left Joey.

“Hands behind your necks, fellas,” Joey ordered, staring fixedly at Ned One. 

Slowly, they complied.

She walked around the table until she was only a few feet in front of them, unbuttoned her lab coat and rested her fists on her trouser-clad hips. Only the slight flush rising above the collar of her turtleneck betrayed her anger.

Hutch moved around to stand just behind her on her right while Starsky took the same position on her left. Starsky could only see her look from the side but he was glad he wasn’t the one in it’s line of fire.

“I always thought you were a worm, Ned, but I put up with you for Jason’s sake. You may not believe this but I did love him. And I respected him for the good he was trying to do for the world. Crop enhancements to increase yield and resist fungus, molds and pests, genetic engineering to make sure nothing like ‘mad cow disease’ ever threatens again.”

Both Pointerlys’ faces showed equal degrees of disgust but it was the clone who spoke. “Jason Farthingill was a scientist of little talent and no imagination. Ned gave wings to Farpoint.”

“You’d never have had the Accelerated Growth Medium if not for Jason!” Joey looked over her shoulders at Starsky, then Hutch. “My husband had over a hundred patents. He was brilliant!” She turned forward again and stared fixedly, scornfully at Ned One. “You, on the other hand, were only a leech.”

Joey took one step forward and Starsky and Hutch moved with her. Around the room the clones of himself and his partner closed in.

Joey shook her head as if disappointed in a star pupil. “I thought I could convince you to give up your misguided efforts by ruining as many of your projects as possible. But I guess I underestimated your Croesus-like greed, your all-consuming arrogant ego and your desperately over-inflated estimation of your value and worth.” Her voice and facial expression attained a sneer Starsky himself would have been proud of. “You’re nothing but the most slimy, conceited, despicable --”

Without the slightest facial tick of warning, the Neds’ right hands came from behind their necks and flung the stiletto each contained at Joey. 

Starsky instinctively reached for his Beretta but froze with his hand around the grips, the weapon still in its holster. The knives bounced off her chest an instant before she drew a small automatic from her back under the coat and fired a single shot into each Ned’s forehead.

They crumpled where they stood, their faces showing only the beginning of shock. There was little blood; they simply fell.

Starsky turned to Joey who was taking off her coat and putting the gun back in its holster. “I’m convinced he killed Jason but the Barstow police ruled ‘natural causes.’” She threw the coat over the back of a chair and slipped the turtleneck over her head. What was revealed was the most sophisticated protective vest Starsky had ever seen. It covered her entire upper torso and throat as well as her arms.

She smiled at his and Hutch’s astonishment. “The material in this little beauty is of my own invention and development. It will be made available to the military and all police departments as soon as I can get the specifications out to every suitable manufacturer. And each of them will have to agree to sell them at cost. There are so many potential applications for this fabric they’ll make bundles without having to gouge the people whose lives it will save.”

Starsky couldn’t help himself, he put his arms around her and hugged her. 

Hutch gave him a few uninterrupted moments before he cut in and enveloped her in his own embrace. “I knew Starsky should have married you all those years ago, kid.”

Starsky huffed and everyone in the room laughed.

Starsky could tell she was a little flustered, not from having killed the Neds, but from all the attention. She stepped away from Hutch and indicated the chairs around the room and all the clones. “Have a seat, gentlemen. We have much to talk about and little time.”

Starsky and Hutch sat on either side of her again while the other eleven brought extra chairs from the wall and squeezed in around the table. 

Starsky put a hand on her arm. “You knew about the knives, didn’t you?”

“You baited him until they went for them,” Hutch added. 

She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them and sat up straight. “I knew Ned had one, Jason told me about it. The sheath he carried it in was ingenious and supposedly undetectable in a normal search.” She scanned the faces of all the clones, making sure none of them blamed himself for having missed the weapons. “I honestly think Jason was scared of Pointerly but wasn’t man enough to break away from him. When he and I got together he could forget about him most of the time.”

Hutch was plainly confused. “You really didn’t know he had a clone?”

“No. As far as I could determine all of them died, either in my events of sabotage, or as soon as they were activated. The term for clones that don’t survive activation is ‘non-viable.’” She looked at the serious faces around the table. “It happened a lot in the beginning and we never knew why. Still don’t. Some people can be cloned easily, others can’t.” She folded her hands on top of the table. “He was right, too. I never found his secret level.”

Starsky gestured around the table. “Is this all there are of… us?”

She nodded. “Yes. When I knew you were coming tonight I activated them and explained everything. Even though I never expected the Neds to be here I was afraid we’d run out of time if I waited.” She studied the copied features around her. “None of you let me down. You all listened and, more importantly, you coped with an extremely difficult, bizarre situation.” The smile she showered them with was radiant and Starsky had the feeling they were all basking in her gratitude.

When she turned back to Starsky and Hutch, she was all business again. “I asked them to wait in my office until the three of us had talked.” She ran her fingers through her hair in a disconcerted gesture. “Knowing now that the Neds were here all the time, I can’t believe how lucky I was that they didn’t come up to investigate what I was doing.” She glanced around again. “Guess they were too busy discussing possible scenarios for our demise.”

The clones met her eyes as her gaze circled the group. “Do I assume correctly that you heard us in the hallway and came to investigate?” Each man nodded and she bathed them in another brilliant smile. “Thanks, guys!” 

Pushing her chair back, she got up and went to the credenza, tapped a long set of numbers into a keypad, opened a door and took out a large satchel. Walking around the room, she handed a manila envelope to each of the eleven clones while she explained. “There’s fifty thousand dollars in these packets, enough, I hope, to support you in the short term. Also, you’ll find contact information for Ray Parsons, a good friend of mine in Los Angeles. He’ll be able to make up any documentation you require in order to establish yourselves with any new names you choose, in any city you wish.” She ended up back at her chair. “It’s my dream that each pair of you will choose a place as far away from the others as possible, and that you’ll go be great cops! But your future is entirely up to you.”

The clones all looked at each other. A Starskys raised his hand. “I seem to be the odd man out, Joey. Did you have a plan for me?”

One of the pairs quickly exchanged a few silent words and the Hutch spoke up. “Come with us. You and my partner can be identical twins. Some cop shop somewhere will probably fall all over themselves if we apply.”

The camaraderie that flowed after that made Starsky’s heart skip a beat. He truly wished he had time to get to know all of them. 

Joey walked to a door in the wall, punched another set of numbers into another keypad and opened it to reveal a closet crammed with backpacks. “There are six of these with a temporary ‘S’ on the front, five with an ‘H.’ I trust the reason is obvious.” The clones checked with each other, hid smiles, and nodded. “A change of clothes, your preferred weapons, toiletries, wigs, theatrical makeup, sunglasses, hats, shoes…” She threw an exaggerated frown at the Starskys, “Sorry, they don’t make that style of Adidas any longer.” 

“Lousy arch support anyway,” Starsky heard one of them say. 

Joey came back and sat down again. 

Starsky thought she looked very tired all of a sudden. “Joey…” 

She interrupted her train of thought and looked at him. “You have questions, of course. What’s the first one?”

“Uh, would you like Hutch and me to get rid of the Neds?”

“Oh, don’t bother.” She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “We’ll all be leaving and they won’t. They’ll remain right where they belong, in the middle of what will be the total destruction of Farpoint.”

“Huggy mentioned something about your being an explosives expert but…” Hutch looked at her searchingly. “It’s a big place, kiddo.”

“Aw, Hutch…” Her expression softened and she put a hand on his arm. “I’ve had years to plan this, and the knowledge to develop explosives that remain stable under any conditions and for as long as necessary. They’ve been stashed throughout the entire facility. When I set them off, this place will become nothing more than a really big smokin’ hole in the ground.”

For a moment she appeared chagrined. “I must admit, I never thought Ned might have his own level, and even an access tunnel. We’ll have to find them so I can enter the new areas into the program, plant the charges, then readjust the detonation pattern, sequence, and timing. I need to make sure they’re destroyed, too.”

*******

It had taken meticulous searching but, with everyone on the hunt, the entrance to Pointerly’s sub-basement had been found relatively quickly and Joey had done as she’d said she would. The tunnel, for a distance of a hundred yards, had received its share of explosives.

During the positioning of the final set, Hutch caught her attention. “Is this something they taught in chem class?”

She inserted the detonator in the device and straightened up. “Not really.” She scanned the intent faces around her. “Do any of you remember the Loizeau brothers?” Negative headshakes caused her to shrug as she led the way toward the now-fully-opened secret entrance. “A family of demolition experts, they perfected a technique for causing almost any type of structure, no matter how large, to implode on itself. I’ve used their methods and, beginning with Ned’s lowest level now, all of Farpoint will fall inward, leaving almost no trace of the destruction outside its own footprint. Except for the dust cloud, of course, but that should settle quickly since, thankfully, there’s almost no wind tonight.”

“Nothing I like better than a positive attitude.” Hutch didn’t try to hide the admiring gleam in his eye.

“Why, thank you, sir!” She linked her arms through Starsky’s and Hutch’s elbows and kept walking. “It’s amazing what one can teach oneself and accomplish in more than thirty years if one wants to.”

Hutch caught Starsky’s eye over Joey’s head, smiled, and got a crooked grin in return. 

Joey was pensive as the crowded elevator - half the clones were taking the stairs - rose back to the conference room level. “I’ll alert the Barstow police and the Army to the tunnel’s entrance on the old road. And since Barstow was where the Ned clone lived, I’m sure that house will be subjected to a thorough search. The authorities need to find every single piece of evidence they can in order to make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”

Hutch was a little nervous about addressing what he sincerely hoped were his last concerns. “Uh, Joey, how can letting the authorities know what was going on here guarantee that? Pointerly had to have some very important people in his pocket. Won’t everything just get covered up?”

“Good question, Hutch.” Leading the way past the room where the bodies lay, Joey went into her office. It was able to contain the fourteen of them but only barely. As Starsky and Hutch took the two chairs she pointed to, the other clones sat on the couch or its arms, perched on the coffee table, or leaned against the walls. 

She punched more numbers into a keypad on her credenza, opened a drawer and removed a stack of files and two thumb drives which she held up. “All the Farpoint data that I’ve chosen to divulge is in these folders and on these units. Everything I could document about the legitimate branches as well as each and every one of their illegal activities. My attorney has the originals. He’ll send everything I’ve gathered over the years to a good friend of mine who happens to be the U.S. Attorney General. She has powerful friends internationally and, together, they’ll see to it that places like this all over the world are investigated and shut down if they’re cloning humans - and we’d probably all be willing to bet they are! A few honorable people are still in positions of authority and power, Hutch, and I believe the AG is one of those. Not everyone has succumbed or been corrupted.”

Hutch greatly appreciated her thoroughness and hoped she was right.

Looking at the intense faces around her, Joey took a deep breath. “Let’s go wake up Dave and Ken.” 

As everyone got to their feet and Joey led the way out to the elevator and stairs, and then one level down, Hutch had time to think. He’d been in some pretty unusual situations before but this took the cake! He and his partner were clones, surrounded by others of their ilk. They were going now to the cryo-sleep chamber where they’d awaken the original Starsky and Hutchinson. If he didn’t know he wasn’t dreaming he wouldn’t believe it. 

When the elevator disgorged them and they were joined by those who’d come down the stairs, they walked down a long hallway. Joey punched numbers into two separate keypads and had her palm and right retina scanned before locks clicked and she opened double doors into a huge room. 

“That’s some security,” Starsky whispered. Hutch nudged him lightly, conveying full agreement.

The only sound in the arena-sized space was the soft susurration of machines supposedly keeping alive the bodies in the dozens of containers lined vertically against the walls.

Joey stood in the center, allowing them to gaze their fill at the science-fiction-like scene. “Now I have a question of my own.” She glanced at each of them. “Who do we wake up first?”

Starsky appeared confused. “Why not thaw them both at the same time?”

Joey shook her head. “Can’t. Rules say three trained staff have to be present whenever someone is brought out of stasis.” She shrugged sheepishly. “Since I’m the only ‘trained staff’ here at the moment, it’ll be me, with your help. We don’t want to take any chances though, so we’ll wake them one at a time.” 

“Why three?” Starsky persisted. “Is it dangerous?”

“The theory is they could be agitated --”

“Theory?” Starsky was beginning to sound a little pissed off himself so Hutch put a hand on his arm to try and settle him. Starsky hunched his shoulders. “Sorry, Joey. I’ll try not to interrupt again.”

She smiled her acceptance of the apology before gesturing around the room. “We haven’t awakened anyone since I came to Farpoint. I’m only quoting the manual.”

“No one?” a Hutch asked.

“Everyone in here is waiting for something and has left instructions about when they’re to be revived. Some are waiting for a cure for their illness. Some for a better future. We have one man who hopes to stay here until his heirs all die so they won’t inherit his fortune.” She chuckled and muttered, “Good luck with that.” Turning toward a pair of cylinders on a wall by themselves, she began walking in that direction. “We even had one guy who was a serial rapist on three continents. He thought he was close to getting caught so he paid Pointerly a great deal of money in order to sleep out the statutes of limitations.”

“You’re kidding.” This simultaneously from two of the Hutchs.

“Wish I were.”

“But you said, ‘had’," a Starsky pointed out. “He’s no longer here?”

“No.” She stopped in front of the two side-by-side capsules, turned around and stared at them, no humor whatsoever in her eyes. “There was a… failure in one of the earlier versions of this room and three of Pointerly’s most important clients were lost. During their initial interviews - I wasn’t here yet but I watched the discs of those sessions many times - all of them gleefully admitted to instigating, or at least taking part in, an elaborate scheme to bilk friends and associates out of their life savings. They insisted on escaping the repercussions of their actions in cryo-sleep with their fortunes safely tucked away until they woke up.”

“And the rapist?” one of the Hutchs asked.

She crossed her arms and looked defiant. “He just happened to be connected to the system that failed. I wasn’t about to have the four of them escape punishment simply because the law has its damnable restrictions on how long someone can be held accountable for heinous, but not capital, crimes.” Her face showed not the slightest sign of remorse.

“Good girl!” Hutch muttered

She obviously heard him because she straightened her shoulders. “Okay, same question, who do we wake up first?”

Hutch didn’t even have to think about it. “Me…. No, I guess I mean Hutch.”

His partner put a gentle hand on his arm. “Don’t you mean Ken?”

“Yeah, uh… yes! I, uh…” Hutch fought a blush. He almost never stammered any more.

“It’s okay.” Joey had a tenderness on her face Hutch had never seen before. “Every one of us is as deeply into this as we can get, and it’s something we never dreamed of. We need to accept that we’re all a little on edge.” She looked him in the eye. “Why Ken first though, if I might ask?”

“Because…” Hutch tried to think why he’d been so sure of his decision. “If he and Dave had any inkling at all that something bad was going to happen, Dave’s probably going to come out fighting.”

“He’s right,” one of the Starskys said. “I’m pretty sure I would.”

“Ken should be there to help get his feet on the ground,” Hutch added. 

Joey nodded. “That was my inclination and I’m very happy that you agree.” She turned to the cylinder on the right. 

Through the transparent arch over the occupant’s upper body, Hutch could see a duplicate of his own features. It was one thing to be surrounded by other Hutch clones like himself, but quite another to be staring at the man they all duplicated. Starsky put a hand lightly on his back and Hutch had never been more grateful for his partner’s empathy and support.

Joey pulled a wheeled cradle-shaped trolley from against the wall and positioned it next to Ken’s capsule. She spent a few seconds disconnecting wires and tubes before motioning Hutch and Starsky to help her. Together, they lowered the capsule onto the wheeled vehicle that had undoubtedly been made to accommodate any of the containers in the room. Leading the way, she kept a hand on the front while Starsky and Hutch pushed from behind.

Opening the door to a side room filled with wall-to-wall equipment, she motioned the trolley over next to a group of monitors. Not hesitating for a moment, she hooked leads and hoses into ports on the side of the capsule. As soon as that was done, she threw a few switches before turning back to her audience. “This will take a little while. If anyone has questions now’s the time to ask. I’ll be happy to answer them if I can.”

Hutch raised his hand, feeling like a schoolboy. “What’s going to happen to all those guys in that room?”

She rolled a stool away from one of the monitoring stations and sat down, gesturing for everyone else to find seats. Starsky and Hutch sat on the floor, their backs to the trolley-cylinder in which Ken was being brought out of cryo-sleep. Some leaned against the walls, others sat on the floor. 

Joey looked at her hands in her lap for a while, most likely trying to get her thoughts in order, before she studied each of their faces. Hutch couldn’t see a trace of guile or dishonesty in her expression or body language and that eased his disquiet. “Each of the people in that room, other than Dave, is, for all intents and purposes, already dead.”

“What?” Hutch knew several others had blurted the word at the same time he did.

Joey laced her fingers on her knees. “Jason and Ned learned early on, long before I got here, that age was the most important factor in this technology. Anyone over sixty is highly unlikely to be revivable.”

“But…” one of the Starskys said, “every one of those guys in there, all the ones I noticed anyway, is at least that old!”

“That’s right.” Her gaze left them and Hutch could tell she was looking through the door at the doomed sleepers. “You see, Ned neglected to tell the applicants about that little side effect.”

“You mean he killed them.” This came from one of the Hutchs. 

“Yes. You could say that.” Joey’s attention came back to them. “Oh,” she raised a hand as if thinking of contradicting herself, “theoretically, they could all be perfectly alright if awakened.”

“Theoretically,” a Starsky repeated, skepticism all over his face.

“I’ve read through every scrap of data Farpoint kept on all its experiments, trials, and initial attempts.” She raised both hands in futility. “In every instance where the subject was over sixty, revitalization failed.”

“I’ll bet Pointerly never mentioned that to any of his older clients.” Hutch felt as if he wanted to resurrect Ned One and kill him again.

Joey shook her head. “If he did, I couldn’t find it.” She gestured toward the sleep room. “Not that some of them wouldn’t have taken the chance anyway. Immortality is a strong incentive.”

“Yeah,” Starsky muttered, “we’ve seen what it did to Pointerly.” 

Hutch slipped his arm around his partner’s shoulders and Starsky leaned against him. 

“Over sixty you say?” a Hutch asked. “So Ken, here, and Dave, should be fine. Right?”

“I believe they will, yes.” Joey glanced at the capsule above Hutch and his partner’s heads. “In fact, we should know soon.” She stood up and everyone else in the room did as well. 

Checking all the monitors and dials, Joey moved to the side of the gurney, unsealed the top half of the container and raised it. Air hissed either into or out of the small space, Hutch wasn’t sure which.

For what seemed like half of forever, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the blond head moved slightly, a cheek muscle twitched, an eyelid blinked but didn’t stay open. 

Joey leaned over and spoke softly. “Ken… wake up, Ken. You’re okay, everything’s okay, you’re just fine. Wake up now.”

Ken’s eyes opened slightly, closed again, opened farther. After a few seconds, his vision seemed to focus on her face. He tried to speak but no sound came out. 

She held a hand up over her shoulder and almost instantly a glass of clear liquid with a bent straw materialized in it. Hutch had no idea where it came from but was glad one of the clones had foreseen the need and filled it. She raised Ken’s head and helped him drink a little. “Don’t try to take too much. There’s plenty more where this came from.” She laid his head back on the pillow and passed the glass to a hand that reached for it. 

“St… uh… Starsk?” 

The sounds were barely audible but they made Hutch shiver; he was hearing his own voice. _Well, sure, dummy_. His partner sent the admonition silently, with great kindness, and Hutch released his held breath. He and Starsky hadn’t been doing much non-vocal communicating before yesterday but maybe these instances would get them back into the habit. He hoped so.

Joey put a hand to the side of Ken’s face and turned it to look at her. “Dave’s right next door. We’re going to wake him up next.”

Ken made an effort to sit up and, with her help, managed it. He looked at the metallic arch that still covered his legs before meeting her eyes. “You are going to explain all this, right, ma’am?” His voice was weak but fully understandable.

“I sure am!” With Joey’s, plus Hutch’s and Starsky’s help, the second half of the capsule’s cover was raised, Ken’s legs were draped over the side and he was lifted to his feet. The hospital gown shook with his trembling.

Hutch had to give the guy credit because, after his first real look at all the faces in the room, he appeared pretty damn calm. His eyes did widen and he stared though, before looking back at Joey. “Cloning’s real?”

“All in good time, Detective Hutchinson.” Joey took his left arm while Hutch took his right. “The prep room’s right next door. You can get dressed, have more water and a few crackers.” She opened a side door and led the way into an office. 

Hutch, gratefully feeling his partner right on his heels, helped the blond sit in one of the guest chairs. 

“Ken…” Joey waited until his eyes were focused on her before putting a hand on Hutch’s arm. “Hutch, here, will give you a hand getting dressed. Your clothes are in the pile on the right side of the couch. There’s plenty of water in the fridge and a box of crackers in the cabinet. That’s about all your stomach can handle right now but you need to get as much of those two things down as you can. Rest, hydrate, and gain some strength. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Wait!” Ken tried to get up but Hutch put a hand lightly on his shoulder. “I have to be there. He’ll need me.”

“We’ll be right in the next room.” Joey’s voice was reassuring, soothing, and Hutch felt Ken’s shoulder relax just a little. “It’ll take a while to revive him and you’ll be able to hear every word. You have time to eat, drink more water, and get dressed. Believe me, if we need you, I’ll call.”

That seemed to placate the newly-awakened man. As Joey left the room, leaving the connecting door wide open, Hutch went to the couch and returned with the clothes. 

Starsky moved to the small refrigerator and brought back three bottles of water. He uncapped them and handed one to Ken, one to Hutch, keeping one himself. Raising his in a toast, he smiled the genuine, full-face smile Hutch loved to see. “L’chaim!”

Hutch agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment. “To life! Can’t think of a better toast, partner.”


	6. Chapter 6

The original Ken Hutchinson didn’t seem able to formulate questions as Hutch and Starsky helped him discard the hospital gown and don the articles of clothing. As he ate crackers and drank water, they all listened to the questions, and Joey’s answers, coming from the next room. 

The first one was asked by a Starsky voice: “Why didn’t anyone at Metro ever realize that Starsky and Hutch never aged?” 

“Well, you see…” Joey cleared her throat, sounding almost embarrassed. “We’re pretty sure there’s a wizard involved.”

The few seconds of dead silence that followed her statement made Hutch remember his own reaction when he’d heard the news. He could tell Ken was listening intently as she went on to explain the glamours that had almost surely been cast in order to keep the secret from being discovered. Ken shook his head, possibly in sadness, possibly in disbelief.

“What do we do about him? This wizard.” Hutch still wasn’t comfortable with the sound of his own voice coming through the open door.

“Oh, he’s going to be dealt with.” Joey’s tone was one of finality. “I only recently discovered his name is Winston Wilmot. Huggy and Minnie - you all remember them, right?” She waited while, presumably, each clone searched his memory and found the correct images. “They’re outside this facility right now, waiting to take us away from here. They have friends in the community of arcane arts practitioners who now know what Wilmot’s been doing. Magical people have their own way of dealing with wizards who’ve used their talents less than honorably. Believe me, when they’re finished with him, he’ll be more than happy to renounce the dark side.”

Ken, as well as few others next door, chuckled and it raised Hutch’s spirits. The bottle of water and half-stack of crackers had done wonders for Ken; his color was much better, he sat straight and needed no help getting to and from the tiny bathroom. After Hutch and Starsky had made the same quick trip, they sat or leaned and continued to listen.

“You mentioned experiments, trials and initial attempts,” a Starsky voice said, after a long silence. “Just who did they use for those?”

“Volunteers from everything I learned,” Joey told them. “Mostly homeless men and women, or terminally ill patients. I suppose they thought they had nothing to lose.”

“And nobody over sixty ever survived?” Another Starsky voice.

“No one.”

The second half-forever dragged by with Joey answering more cogent questions until her soft ‘wake up now’ tone was heard. “It’s okay, Dave, everything’s fine. We’re here to help you. No one’s going to hurt you.”

“Who…?” Dave’s voice was weak. He coughed and tried again. “Who _are_ you?” The words were somewhat louder and defiant. “Where’s Hutch?” There was the sound of scuffling. “Get your hands off me! Turn on the lights! I can’t see! Where’s Hutch? Hutchhhhhhhhhhh!”

Ken lurched to his feet and hurried to the door, Hutch and Starsky right behind.

Inside the small room, all the clones were standing around, unsure of what to do. Dave thrashed against Joey’s hands, definitely not listening to her words or comforting tone.

Starsky darted past Ken, shouldered Joey out of the way and sat down on the edge of the half-open capsule. He grabbed Dave’s shoulders. “Listen to me, Dave --”

“Don’t touch me!” As Dave struggled against the firm grip, his left hand encountered Starsky’s holster and within a nanosecond Dave had the Beretta in his fist. “Get away from me. Turn on the lights so I can _see_! What have you done with Hutch? I’ll kill you if you’ve hurt --”

“DAVID MICHAEL STARSKY!” Ken’s voice echoed off the hard surfaces in the room and everyone froze. Including Dave. 

In two long strides, Ken was next to the trolley. Starsky stood up so that Ken could slip into his place. His hands went to Dave’s face and cupped it firmly. “It’s me, Starsk. I’m right here. It’s okay now, everything’s okay.”

“Hutch?” Dave’s voice was hoarse. “I can’t see, Hutch. I’m blind.”

Ken threw a horrified look at Joey, who stepped forward, shaking her head. “No. It’s only temporary.” She ran her fingers into Dave’s hair. “You’ll get your sight back, Dave. It’s in all the manuals as a possible side-effect of the process. We always knew it might happen, but it won’t be permanent. I promise.”

Ken gently took the Beretta from Dave’s hand and gave it to Starsky. Hutch was glad to see the look Ken sent his partner was only slightly reproachful. He apparently realized that Dave, even in his weakened and confused state, had reacted faster than anyone could have anticipated. Dave collapsed against Ken’s chest and was wrapped in strong arms.

Joey gestured to Hutch and Starsky. “We need to get them both into the prep room. I want Dave to eat and drink a little before he gets dressed. And we’re running out of time.”

Hutch, with Ken’s help, got Dave up and, supporting him from both sides, walked him to the adjoining room. Starsky bolted to the fridge and grabbed water, snagging the box of crackers on his way past the desk. Ken lowered Dave onto the couch, sat next to him and kept his partner’s shoulders within the circle of his arm. 

Starsky handed Ken the water, keeping the saltines until Dave had quenched his immediate thirst. The blond opened the bottle and put it into Dave’s hands. The contents vanished down Dave’s throat with him hardly seeming to swallow. 

Joey nodded approval and disappeared into the adjoining room to do whatever needed to be done there.

After the water, Dave ate an entire stack of saltines almost without taking a breath. Ken patted his arm in an ‘atta boy’ gesture. Dave turned to him and raised a tentative hand. “Hutch?”

Ken caught it, kissed the palm and carried the hand to his cheek. “Right here, Starsk.”

“What’s goin’ on? What ‘process’? Am I Han Solo? And, if so…” he chuckled, “will you be my Chewbacca until I get my sight back?”

“Gladly!”

Watching the tender exchange Hutch wondered if he and his partner had been the first to discover a closer connection.

Dave’s fingers traced Ken’s face. “Talk to me, babe.”

“I don’t know very much myself yet but even that’s more than I can possibly tell you in the next few minutes.” Ken looked up at the anxious faces gathered around them before ruffling the dark curly hair. “I’ll tell you this though, pal, you won’t ever have to watch monster movies again. We’ve evidently been in one!”

*******

Huggy crept back to the truck and pulled himself up through the hatch. He stripped off the suit and got dressed as quickly as possible before opening the rear door and stepping down onto the road. He walked nonchalantly to the front where he could tell that Rick was surprised to see him. 

“Mr. Brown! I didn’t know you were here!”

“I wasn’t.” Huggy let that enigmatic statement hang in the air while he put his arms around Minnie and Gloria and kissed their cheeks. After visually assuring himself that they were both okay, he opened the vehicle’s hood and detached the device that had effectively crippled the engine. Slipping the unit into his pocket, he turned back to the guard who had managed to resist all Minnie’s and Gloria’s pleas. “You can open the gate now, Rick.”

Stubborn to the last, Rick shook his head. “Can’t do that, Mr. Brown. As I’ve been telling your wife and Gloria, here, it’d mean my job.”

Huggy didn’t bother to respond but put his arms back around Minnie’s and Gloria’s waists. He nodded toward the facility. “Nothin’?”

Minnie shook her head, relief at his safety apparent in her eyes. “Not a sound.”

“No news is good news, right?” Gloria asked.

Huggy glanced at his watch without releasing his hold on either of his women. “We can only assume that things are going according to plan and we’ll just have to wait.” He glanced up at the partially overcast sky. The last-quarter moon was silvering the horizon. “We’ve still got time to get away from here before the bus shows up from Baker with the first of the lab workers.”

Rick moved right up to the fence, confusion written all over his features. “What’s goin’ on, Mr. Brown? These ladies have been tryin’ to get me to open the gate and use my communications. But I can’t do that!”

Huggy put as much understanding and sympathy in his voice as he could manage. “That’s not necessary now.” Rick had done what they’d needed, which was to be oblivious to Starsky and Hutch’s break-in.

*******

Once back upstairs, everyone filed into the conference room and no one even glanced at the bodies. Joey pointed toward the open closet. “Each of you grab a knapsack and follow me next door.”

When they were assembled in her office, she gestured to the manila envelopes that had been left when they’d begun searching for Ned’s secret lab entrance. “Grab your packets, guys.” 

With Hutch’s and Starsky’s help, she got Dave and Ken seated in the two guest chairs in front of her desk. “It’s getting late and I want this place nothing but rubble before daylight.” She glanced at her watch. “That doesn’t give us much time.” 

Joey hurried to the credenza and brought out a briefcase, into which she stuffed the thumb drives and papers, before crouching down to give the compartments another check. 

Around the room, money-and-information envelopes were gathered from various surfaces and stashed in jacket pockets and packs. Voices were hushed, clipped, and very serious.

Hutch kept his hand lightly, he hoped comfortingly, on Ken’s shoulder and Starsky did the same with Dave. 

“You’re still here, right, Hutch?” Dave asked softly, lifting his right hand.

Ken grabbed it and held on tight. “Not goin’ nowhere without you, partner.” When Dave smiled, Ken seemed to relax, just a little. He looked at Joey. “Uh… ma’am?” She was filling her case with more folders and didn’t seem to hear; he raised his voice a little. “Did I see two bodies in that conference room, ma’am?”

She kept doing what she was doing. “Yes, you did.”

Hutch could tell that Dave was trying to make sense out of the sounds he was hearing but his frame of reference was sadly lacking in anything that came close. “Is this a Twilight Zone episode? Half the voices I hear are Hutch’s but he’s right beside me. The other half are mine and I know I ain’t been talking. Are they clones?…. Are _we_ clones?” The last words were plaintive.

Joey set her case and a large purse on the desk, moved around and knelt in front of them, her hands on their clasped set. “No, Dave.” She glanced around before realizing he couldn’t see her. “Everyone else in the room is, but you and Ken are the originals.”

“We know you…” Ken sounded as confused and unsure as Hutch knew he had to be. “Don’t we?”

She got to her feet. “You did.” Like a border collie gathering sheep, she began herding them all out the door. On her way, she handed the briefcase to Hutch and the purse to Starsky, before linking her arms through Ken’s and Dave’s elbows. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk once we get to Baker, and I promise I’ll answer all your questions but, for right now, we need to get outside.”

Hutch and his partner brought up the rear. 

*******

“I really think you should all leave, Mr. Brown.” Rick unsnapped the flap of his holster. “I don’t want to shoot you but you can’t be here when I open the gate for the buses that are coming.”

Huggy didn’t have to respond because at that moment, behind Rick, lights came on over the facility’s door, and at both visible corners of the roof. The guard shack and gate, as well as the four people standing there, were bathed in brilliance. Huggy’s face split in possibly the widest smile of his life. “Nobody’s gonna be shootin’ anybody, Rick.”

The guard turned around and simply stared. Joey Farthingill was leading a group of men toward them, many of whom looked an awful lot alike. Rick shook his head, probably in an attempt to clear his vision.

As they approached the guard, Joey withdrew her arms from the elbows of two men who, Huggy realized with a lurch to his heart, had to be Dave and Ken. Dave appeared disoriented, his eyes open but unfocused. The instant Joey left them, Ken moved over and put an arm around Dave’s shoulders. 

Minnie clutched Huggy’s hand. “I think he’s blind,” she whispered, and Huggy’s heart turned over again.

Dragging his gaze from Dave and Ken, Huggy watched Joey approach, as satisfied an expression on her face as Huggy had ever seen. Starsky and Hutch, distinguishable by their dark body-hugging suits and holsters, hung to the back and sent happy smiles at Huggy that he stored in his memory bank, to be savored later. He raised his hand in salute and they both returned it. Huggy refocused his attention on Joey.

“Where’s your truck, Rick?” Her question sounded casual, as if nothing had gone on inside the lab.

“Right next to your car, Mrs. F.” Rick was definitely flustered. “I was real surprised to see it when I got here. Thought Roberts was on tonight.”

“I switched with him.” She gestured toward where Huggy, Minnie and Gloria were standing. “Open the gate please, then go bring your vehicle around. We have all these people to take down to Baker and the tamale wagon will only hold so many.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Undoubtedly used to taking orders, the guard ran into the shack, punched a button and then hurried off toward the east corner of the facility.

While the heavy barrier rolled back, Joey dug in her pocket and handed a set of keys to one of the Starskys. “Would you bring my Mercedes around, please?”

“You bet!” Looking quite happy to oblige, the clone sprinted after Rick.

“I’ll get the wagon turned, Joey.” Huggy couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Everything, or almost everything, had evidently gone just as they’d planned, as crazy and complicated as that plan had been, and they were all about to leave this horror-filled place. He climbed in behind the wheel of his beloved tamale wagon and carefully three-point-turned it, ready to head for Baker. Getting out, he hurried back to the gathering, not wanting to miss a single word more than he already had. 

Rick drove his old but well-maintained crew cab pickup toward them and the clones moved off to the side. Ken guided Dave safely out of the truck’s path. Rick stopped next to Joey. 

She held out her hand to Hutch and accepted her briefcase before stepping to the driver’s side window, motioning for a few clones to get in. After the guard had flicked the locks open, the Hutch and twin-Starsky trio climbed in the back while a second pair got in the front. 

Joey set her case down and put her hands on Rick’s arm. “Please follow the tamale wagon to Baker. I’ll be right behind you. You can drop these men off at the Holiday Inn and then go on home.” He appeared distinctly unhappy. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Rick. You weren’t any part of what went on inside this place. When the police come to question you, don’t lie and don’t make anything up.” 

She lifted the briefcase to the fender, opened it and took out a large envelope before closing it again and setting it back on the ground. She handed the parcel through the window. “There’s a letter of recommendation in there and a check for a year’s salary.”

His mouth dropped open. “You don’t have to do that, Mrs. F.”

“Oh, yes, I do. You see, I’m going to ask you to have a serious case of forgetfulness when you talk to the authorities. Please answer their questions as truthfully as you can but… don’t volunteer any information.”

“What kind of information, ma’am?”

“About these men in your truck or those still standing outside.” As he glanced in his rearview mirror, she continued, persuasively. “I don’t want you involved in the problems some of the techs are going to have so, when the police talk to you, I’d very much like you to tell them I came out of the building with only four men.”

“Four men,” he repeated.

“Yes, Rick. Those two over there in black bodysuits and the two standing beside them. You need to forget about all the others.”

He looked around for a few moments before his face cleared of uncertainty or inquisitiveness. “What ‘others,’ Mrs. F? I don’t see any ‘others.’”

“Oh, Rick, you are a treasure. Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek before stepping back and motioning for him to pull forward. “Wait behind the tamale wagon, please. We’re going to be making a stop at the bridge before we go on to Baker.”

Blushing furiously, Rick put the truck in gear and drove through the gate. 

The Starsky who’d gone to get Joey’s car glided a black luxury sedan up next to her, put it in park, and stepped out. “Your chariot, ma’am.”

“My thanks, sir.” She waved to the rest of the clones. “I can take all six of you. That will leave Ken and Dave, plus Huggy, Minnie and Gloria, as well as the pair of clones who figured things out Friday night…” she waved Starsky and Hutch in their dark skinsuits forward, “to wedge themselves into the front and back of the food truck.”

She accepted her purse from Starsky. “We’ll make one stop. There we’ll witness the absolute destruction of Farpoint Labs, then be on our way to Baker. It’s not a long trip and hopefully no one will be too uncomfortable.”

One of the Starskys glanced at the luxurious interior of the big Mercedes. “We’ll make do, ma’am.” The others laughed and punched adjacent shoulders, as boys might, who’d managed to live through a particularly tough scrimmage.

Huggy watched the six get into Joey’s car, before he opened the back door of the wagon. Starsky jumped in and turned, holding both hands down to Dave. Ken could see that the step was high. “Reach up both hands, Starsk,” Ken said. Dave did and Starsky practically lifted him into the back. Ken didn’t decline the offered hands either and was soon standing next to Dave, an arm around his shoulders again. Hutch climbed in last. Huggy thought he heard Hutch whisper, “Show off,” to Starsky, to which he thought he heard Starsky chuckle, but he wasn’t sure. He shook his head, truly saddened by Dave’s obvious blindness, closed the door behind them and made his way to the driver’s side. 

Minnie and Gloria were already in, relief, happiness and residual concern spread across their faces. Huggy climbed in and started the engine before looking at them, his grin still firmly in place. “We did it! And whatever happens next, we can all handle it.” 

Minnie had tears in her eyes. “Dave’s blind, isn’t he?”

Huggy patted her hand. “Maybe it’s only temporary, honey. A side-effect of the freezing. We’ll have to wait to hear what Joey says. But let’s not be unhappy right now. They’re out of there!”

After only a moment, Minnie and Gloria both nodded and Huggy put the wagon in gear.

As Joey’s sedan cleared the gate, Huggy stopped, got out and walked back to Rick. “Would you close the gate for us, please?’ Rick jumped out, ran back into the shack, punched the button again and scooted around the closing barrier. Huggy was already back behind the wheel of the tamale wagon when Rick climbed into his pickup. The caravan moved off down the road.

*******

The tamale wagon was stopped at the far end of the bridge with Rick’s pickup and Joey’s Mercedes, close behind. The sky was lightening and sunrise wasn’t far away. Everyone had gathered on the road at the back of the line of vehicles, facing Farpoint. The floodlights on the outside of the building were still visible above the horizon. 

Starsky stood next to his partner, leaning slightly against the solid shoulder. Never had he been more grateful for that dependable support. Ken and Dave were next to them and Starsky was sure their hands were clasped again. For some reason, that made him really happy.

“You’re sure we’re safe here?” Gloria asked in a very small voice.

“Positive!” Joey was standing as tall as her five-feet-something stature allowed and Starsky was, once more, impressed by her composure. “We’ll see the evidence of the implosion but none of the debris will get this far.”

Hutch glanced at the device in her hand. “That thing has this much range?”

She held up the small gadget. “My own enhancement. It’ll work.” With one more look around she asked what Starsky knew was a rhetorical question. “Are we ready?” 

No one bothered to voice the clear affirmative so she pressed the button.

The facility’s lights went out. A few seconds later the ground began to tremble. It felt like a small earthquake and it seemed to go on and on, not getting any stronger, just continuing. 

“Bet this’ll register on the Richter,” one of the Hutchs commented.

Joey nodded. “No doubt.”

A cloud of light-colored dust, almost glowing in the brightening, but still pre-sun daylight, rose, billowing higher and higher. 

Rick gasped. “The dogs! Where’re the dogs?” 

Joey and Huggy each put a calming hand on his arms. “They’ll be fine, Rick,” Joey assured him. “They’re all the way out at the east fence line.”

“They should be waking up any time now,” Huggy went on. “And since you closed the gate, they’ll be okay until Animal Control gets here.”

Rick looked at both of them, sadness in his eyes. “They’re pussy cats! You know that, right, Mrs. F? You let ‘em out and take ‘em in every other week. Wouldn’t hurt a flea. They look mean when they snarl but they don’t bite.”

Joey patted his arm. “I know. I’ll call from my car, make sure Animal Control is aware of that, too. They won’t be harmed, I promise.”

Rick appeared relieved and they all returned their attention to the rising evidence that Farpoint Research Institute and Laboratories no longer existed.

After what Starsky thought might have been five minutes - he’d forgotten to look at his watch - the tremors had stopped and the dust cloud had reached its maximum height and begun to settle. Joey had been right, not a single piece of debris had come anywhere near them. 

Joey slipped the detonator into her pocket and wiped her hands together in a ‘dusting off’ gesture. “Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like our work’s done here.” She turned to the gathering. “Before I call Animal Control, I’ll get in touch with the two bus drivers and stop the employees from making the trip.” She moved toward her car. “The techs are going to have questions to answer but most of them will be okay. Only the ones actually involved in illegal activities will face consequences.”

Everybody climbed into their vehicles, Starsky, Hutch and Ken again making sure Dave didn’t injure himself. At one point, Starsky almost thought Dave wanted to shake off the help but, at the last second, realizing he did need it, he accepted with good grace.

The tamale wagon headed for Baker. 

After lighting the lantern at the front of the aisle, to give Ken and his blind partner some light, Starsky moved to the open back door where Hutch was standing. Starsky put his arm round Hutch’s waist, not really to keep his friend from falling out, but more to reassure himself that they were both alive, well, and heading - home, he supposed. He didn’t know though, maybe Joey had other plans.

“It’s been quite a weekend.” Hutch’s voice could barely be heard over the rattling of truck parts. “Wish I’d known, when I asked you what year you were born, where that question would lead.”

Starsky looked into the sunrise-reflecting sky-blue eyes. “Would you have done anything different?”

After a moment, Hutch shook his head. “No, I guess not.” Glancing behind them, probably to make sure Ken wasn’t watching, and turning his body so that those in the following vehicles couldn’t see, he raised Starsky’s hand and kissed the knuckles. “Nope. Wouldn’t change a thing!”

Starsky was glad because he wouldn’t either! “I do have a suggestion though.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to get back into my own clothes before too much longer. I’m starting to feel like this material is becoming entirely too familiar with my skin.” 

Hutch chuckled and closed the door so that those in Rick’s truck wouldn’t get an x-rated view. “Need any help?” He reached for the zipper that was already half way down Starsky’s chest.

Starsky cast a quick glance toward Ken and Dave. Their heads were close together, paying no attention to anything or anyone except each other. He gently batted Hutch’s hand away though. “Save your salacious thoughts for when we’re alone, please.” Seeing the sudden pout appear on full lips and rejection in blue eyes, Starsky quickly kissed those lips and caressed the side of Hutch’s cheek. “I’ve got so many things I want to do with you, my love, I can’t even let myself think about ‘em now. Let’s get the rest of Joey’s shit behind us first, okay?”

All sense of poutiness vanished from the golden face. “You used the ‘l’ word, Starsk. Did you mean it?”

“Oh, God, yes!” Starsky squatted and dragged the duffle out from under the counter. He was afraid if he looked at Hutch right then he’d tackle him on the spot and rip that skinsuit off him.

Hutch reached down and accepted the pile of clothes Starsky lifted without looking up. “Good. ‘Cause I was afraid I might be in this boat alone.”

Those words cut right through Starsky’s heart and into his soul. He had no choice but to straighten and meet Hutch’s eyes. And they held the most blissful contentment Starsky had ever seen. “I did mean it, Hutch. I’m in love with you.”

Hutch’s look turned wistful but it wasn’t for the reason Starsky immediately thought of. “Wish I’d said it first,” Hutch whispered. “And I’m already counting the minutes until we can be alone. Hope we don’t have to wait too long.”

Starsky shook himself out of his spellbound dive into the depths of Hutch’s eyes and ripped the zipper of his suit all the way down to his crotch. “The sooner we get out of these duds, then, babe, the sooner we can begin the rest of our lives.”

Holsters and weapons were shed onto the counter, then the high-tech hoods, gloves, booties and suits were piled on top of them. Hutch matched Starsky for swiftness as each scrambled into his own clothes. With Hutch on his knees tying Starsky’s shoe laces, Starsky failed to notice the quiet approach of Ken and Dave. When a hand fell lightly on his shoulder, he jumped as if he’d been poked with a cattle prod. Starsky spun and Hutch leaped to his feet.

Ken put his hand up in apology. “Sorry. We didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

Starsky drew in a breath and managed to beat down the instant adrenaline rush. “No problem. I guess we’re all still a bit on edge.” He stuck out his hand. “I don’t really know what to say by way of introduction, but I used to think I was Dave Starsky.”

Dave’s unfocused eyes drilled into Starsky. “My voice. My name...” Somehow sensing what was being requested, he tentatively put his hand out and Starsky grabbed it. When Starsky refused to let go, Dave turned to Ken. “I think this is going to be the most interesting conversation with… strangers… we’ve ever had, Hutch. Don’t you?”

Ken’s smile was ragged with uncertainty but he was definitely trying to keep his head above water. “I believe you’re right, Starsk.”

Starsky finally let go of Dave’s hand and shook Ken’s. 

Hutch introduced himself and shook each of the originals’ hands. “Who wants to ask the first question?”

Ken stared at the mound of black cloth that Starsky and Hutch had been wearing. When he fingered a piece, his eyes opened wide. “What in the world is this stuff?”

“Nothing in your world.” Starsky tried to make his tone as comforting as possible. He shot a quick grin at Hutch before he looked back at Ken. “You might say it’s all part of our invisibility cloaks.”

“Your _what_?” Dave’s disbelieving face swiveled back and forth as if he could see them.

Hutch reached across the intervening space and put a gentling hand on Dave’s shoulder. “Don’t mind him, Dave. It’s a _very_ long story, with a myriad of tangents. For now, let’s just say you’ve both lost a great many years.”

“How many?” Dave asked.

Starsky shared another look with his partner before stepping off the deep end. “Fifty.”

Dave opened his mouth, but quite clearly had nothing to say. Ken was likewise speechless.

Hutch put a hand on Ken’s arm. “You two look as if you need to sit down. Unfortunately, there’s nothing in here except floor but you’re welcome to it.”

Ken nodded. “I think we’ll take you up on that.” Steadying each other, he and Dave slid down the cabinet front under the counter. There wasn’t room to stretch their legs out though, so they sat, Indian style. 

Starsky couldn’t remember having as much trouble swallowing the lumps in his throat as he’d had the past two days. Ken’s and Dave’s positions were so much like the ones he and Hutch had taken on Hutch’s bed Friday night, he was having that difficulty again. His partner leaned against his shoulder and with no words needed, he and Hutch took identical poses across the aisle and slightly toward the back.

When several minutes of truck-rattling sounds had passed, Ken looked at Starsky and Hutch. “I heard you mention the name, Joey. And, sitting here thinking, I’m remembering a voice we were listening to in what I think was an office, then outside at the gate, and again on the road.”

Dave raised his head, as if the cattle prod had found him. “ _Joey Carsten_?”

Ken patted Dave’s knee and took his hand again. “Easy, Starsk. I think these two will tell us at least some of what we need to know.”

Starsky nudged Hutch’s shoulder. “Hit the high spots for ‘em, Hutch. Joey can fill in the blanks later.”

Hutch accepted the passed baton and focused his attention on the wary blond across the aisle. “Like I said before, Ken, it’s a very long story.”

Ken nodded. “We’re listening.”


	7. Chapter 7

At the Holiday Inn in Baker, everyone waited in the vehicles which were parked around the side from the lobby. After what seemed like a long time to Hutch, peering anxiously out of the open rear door of the wagon, but probably wasn’t more than ten or fifteen minutes, Joey came around the building. She handed key cards to each of the Starskys and Hutchs in Rick’s pickup and said something to them. 

They got out and with hats pulled down and sunglasses firmly in place, went in the side entrance. Joey said something else to Rick before patting his arm. He started the engine and drove away.

Joey handed more key cards to the clones in her Mercedes, said probably much the same to them, and they followed the others.

Hutch lifted Joey inside the tamale wagon. He left the door open because there was no one around at this early hour and he wanted the fresh air. Ken and Dave stood close.

“We’re going to park behind the Denny’s next door,” Joey explained. “Huggy, Minnie and Gloria have been here many times and know the manager well. They’ve arranged for the party room to be available to us. We’ll go in the back way so none of the staff will see us.”

Starsky raised his expressive eyebrows. “Breakfast? I’ll have a full slam, please.” 

Hutch nudged him gently as Joey laughed. “You can order anything your curly heart desires, Starsky.” 

She walked forward and tapped on the wall separating their compartment from Huggy and the others. The tamale wagon began to roll and Hutch shut the door. The trip was brief and they kept each other on their feet over the bumps and tilts. 

Hutch opened the door again, jumped down and helped Joey out. Starsky, and Ken followed and both turned to help Dave climb down. The five of them joined Huggy, Minnie and Gloria at the front of the wagon, which was parked behind the always-open Denny’s. 

Joey must have seen the worried expressions on the faces of the three who’d been kept waiting all those hours outside the gate because Hutch heard her whisper to Huggy, “The blindness is only temporary.”

Obviously relieved, Huggy kissed Minnie’s cheek. “I’ll have the back door open for y’all in a jiff.” He jogged around to the front entrance.

Over the next few minutes, the five pairs of clones, plus the extra Starsky, joined them from the motel. Just as the final team arrived, Huggy opened the door and everyone filed inside.

The party room of the Denny’s in Baker was nothing to write home about but it could accommodate the nineteen of them with no difficulty. They dragged tables and chairs together so that everyone would be able to hear everything that was said. Menus were passed around and Huggy took the orders. Gloria and Minnie brought trays with glasses and pitchers of water and iced tea. Ken and Dave as well as all the clones eagerly drained the first glassfuls. Gloria made the rounds, providing refills for the re-hydrating men, before she and Minnie went out to the front of the restaurant.

No one spoke until Huggy came back and sat down. “It’ll take a while. As soon as the food’s ready, Minnie and Gloria will bring it. We don’t want any of the staff back here until after we’re gone.”

“Thanks, Huggy.” Joey sent him a beaming smile before she addressed the replicated faces around her. “Who has questions?” 

Hutch, seated to her right, cleared his throat at the same time Starsky raised his hand. 

Joey turned to them, a look of keen anticipation in her eyes.

Under the table, Starsky patted Hutch on the thigh with a silent _you go first_. Taking a breath, Hutch plunged in. “There are an awful lot of people in this room who look an awful lot like me and --”

“That’s my partner,” Starsky broke in, a lopsided grin on his face, “always stating the obvious.” 

With the ice broken, everyone laughed. 

Hutch ducked his head, lightly kicked Starsky’s foot, and continued. “How are we all going to get out of this one-horse burg without attracting unwanted attention?”

“That’s a good place to start. Thanks, Hutch.” Joey glanced at each of the clones. “As you probably know, you can’t rent a car or buy one without a driver’s license. And it’ll take Ray at least a few weeks before he can have those ready. That’s only after you’ve decided on your new names, found new addresses, made changes to your faces and hair, and sent him pictures. I suggest you not get too radical with those changes.” She glanced at Huggy, Minnie and Gloria. “Your friends and I kinda like the way you look now. Besides,” she added, “you’ll be far enough away from each other, just don’t attend the same conferences in your chosen fields.” 

She laced her fingers on the table. “What I’d suggest is all of you,” she included the eleven clones in her intense scan, “get together in one of your rooms and talk. Come up with names, figure out where you want to go, mode of travel, that kind of thing. You can leave Baker by bus, a pair or two at a time, as long as you’re going in opposite directions and a few hours apart.” She chuckled at their consternation. “That’s the only means of escape I’m afraid until you can rent or buy a car. One Greyhound a day heads east, one heads west, and they take cash. You will have to buy an extra piece of lockable luggage though. No guns inside the bus so you’ll need to check them at the ticket counter. Once you’re out of Baker, there are good hubs in Las Vegas and L.A. You can get flights to anywhere from either of those but only after you have your new identifications. Your rooms here are paid for. Stay as long as you need to.” She grimaced. “Or can stand.” 

More chuckles around the table; everyone was somewhat familiar with Baker. 

“My number’s in your packets,” Joey said. “Please stay in touch, not only with me but with each other.” She put her hands flat on the placemat in front of her and Hutch could tell she was trying not to show embarrassment about something. He waited patiently for her next bombshell.

“Once you’ve established yourselves, let me know, and I’ll transfer the funds I’ve been saving. Each of you will have slightly over a million dollars, as of my accountant’s last reckoning.” The faces around her were stunned. “Farpoint had lots of legitimate money-making schemes in addition to its illegal ones. I’m a very wealthy woman and, since Ned had no heirs, Farpoint’s mine. I plan to open another facility and keep doing what Jason wanted, trying to make the world a better place.” She turned to Hutch and Starsky. “You two will be receiving the same amount. It’s the least Farpoint owes you!”

“‘Thanks’ doesn’t even begin to express my feelings right now, ma’am --” one of the Starskys began. 

“Starsky,” she interrupted, mock-sternly. “I tried to get you to make love to me a long time ago but all you ever did was break our dates. Surely you can’t have forgotten my name.”

Hutch noticed that every one of the Starskys blushed and Dave nearly choked on his iced tea. Ken patted him gently on the back.

She relented and donned a serious expression. “I’m sorry. Couldn’t resist. What was your question, please?”

“What about our fingerprints?” The Starsky was staring at his hands. “There are eight people around this table who have the same ones I do. Won’t somebody ask questions?”

One of the Hutchs piped up. “I was wondering about that, too. If we apply for jobs as cops, or anything else for that matter, print checks would come back to… the originals of us, and indicate that we should be a lot older than we are.” He glanced at Ken and Dave. “Wouldn’t they?” 

Even though he couldn’t stare back, Dave was visibly trying to sort through the implications of what he’d heard. The vertical furrow between Ken’s eyebrows was deep and getting more pronounced.

Joey put her hands out in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry, guys, I should have said something before but there just hasn’t been time.” She gestured around. “If you Hutchs and Starskys will look at each other’s fingertips closely, you’ll notice that they are _not_ the same.”

The clones began comparing digits, a few getting up and moving around the table for a better look, while she continued. “Knowing this was going to be a potential problem, I began formulating a liquid years ago. After I perfected it, I took several of my Sunday nights this past year and, one at a time, painted your palms and fingers.” She looked at the faces as they absorbed what she was saying. “If you’d been awake you would have noticed a tingling, possibly a little heat, but no pain, as the ridges and whorls of your prints were partially erased and randomly re-formed.” She nodded at their hands. “No two of you have prints alike now. You’re each an absolute individual. After you get your paperwork from Ray you can apply for licenses, passports, jobs, carry permits, anything you want, and no flags will be raised.”

“Wow,” a Starsky murmured, staring at and flexing his fingers, while those who had been moving around re-seated themselves.

“Remember I had you wash your hands thoroughly as soon as you woke up? Even before you got dressed?” Every head nodded. “That was to remove any residue but your palms and fingers are completely recovered from their transformation.”

A Hutch raised his hand and she acknowledged him. “Each of us apparently remembers you.” He glanced around at the attentive faces. “Why is that? I mean, why do we all have memories of our - encounters - with you, when none of us was really there?”

“Another excellent question.” She laced her fingers again.

“Huggy,” Minnie called from the other side of the partition.

Huggy held up his hand as Gloria opened the accordion room divider and ushered the tray-laden Minnie inside. Huggy jumped up, ran over, and with Gloria’s help, picked up the additional two heavily-loaded trays waiting outside in the main dining room. As soon as everything was inside, Huggy slid the partition closed again. Ever the perfect hosts, Huggy, Minnie and Gloria served all the burgers, pancake stacks, plates and plates of bacon, omelets, baskets of fries and even a steak sandwich, ordered by the single Starsky. Hutch noticed his partner had indeed ordered a full slam with an extra side of hotcakes. When everyone had their meals in front of them, Huggy, Minnie and Gloria brought their own plates to the table and sat down.

Sounds of near-gluttony filled the party room for several minutes and Hutch found himself completely at peace. He dug into his scrambled eggs. 

“As to why you remember me,” Joey began, between bites of her waffles-with-berries. “Each of you,” she indicated the clones, as well as Hutch and Starsky, “has a chip in your head that allowed all experiences to be downloaded from every prior clone that was killed, as soon after death as possible. You know everything Dave and Ken knew simply as a result of being cloned. Because of the chip though, you know whatever’s happened since.”

She ate another forkful of waffles. “As far as I could determine, the technology was never perfected so your memories could be somewhat clouded or fuzzy.” Hutch noticed the clones looking at each other a little warily. “We won’t bother removing them,” Joey went on, total unconcern in her voice. “They became inactive when Farpoint was destroyed. And you won’t be able to share such things from now on. As of this morning, your memories will be your own.”

The clones appeared satisfied and possibly even relieved. More munching, with appreciative murmurs, followed. 

A Starsky raised his hand tentatively. “Uh, Joey?”

She sent the man a focused look. “Yes, Mr. Starsky?”

“If you weren’t expecting the Neds to be there, why were you wearing body armor?” 

“ _‘Body armor’_?” Dave’s sightless eyes turned toward Joey. “What’s he talking about?”

Hutch couldn’t quite muffle a sigh, realizing just what kind of culture shock Dave and Ken were going to have to go through. He turned to Joey, interested in the answer himself.

She appeared flustered for a moment but only a moment. Running a finger lightly around the edge of the high neck of the garment, she took a settling breath. “After Jason died, I knew I’d lost my protection. If Ned decided to try and take me out, I was vulnerable. So I came up with this.” She shrugged and went back to eating while continuing to explain between mouthfuls. “Sounds easy but, believe me, it wasn’t. I actually have fourteen separate patents that span the technology of this material. They cover everything from the initial formula to the spinning of the various yarns, to the knitting or weaving of different kinds of fabric.”

“Stuff damn sure works!” a Starsky noted.

Joey laughed. “And it’s so easy to wear I almost forget I have it on. It’s lightweight, breathable, flexible, and very soft. It goes in the shower with me every night and because it doesn’t hold moisture, it’s ready for me to put on again in the morning.” She stroked the sleeve once. “I’ve worn this…” she nodded at the Starsky who had asked the question, “body armor every day for over five years.”

“I hate to repeat myself,” another one of the Starskys said, “but, wow!”

Plates were practically licked clean while Minnie and Gloria brought cups of coffee to everyone and refilled water and tea glasses.

Hutch nudged his partner. “You had a question, too, Starsk. We seem to have reached a lull, so ask.”

Starsky glanced quickly around the table. “Uh… maybe now’s not a good time.”

Hutch was surprised. “What do you mean, buddy? I don’t think there are any more secrets here.” 

“He’s right, Starsky.” Joey folded her napkin on her empty plate. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, uh… what about Hutch’s and my jobs at Metro? Are we supposed to go back there as if nothing’s happened?”

Joey was silent for a long time. “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”

One of the Starskys cocked an eyebrow at her. “You wanna spin us another one, kid? You’ve had years to plan this. I don’t think I’m the only one here who believes you’ve considered all the angles and possibilities, and already come up with a contingency for every single one.”

Joey actually blushed and Hutch’s opinion of her leaped even higher. After everything that had happened over the past eight hours, she could be caught unprepared and not be rattled too much.

She fought down the flush and wiped her mouth. Turning to the Starsky, she lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “You’re right, I did try to plan for everything. Although,” she spread her hands to the table in general, “I wasn’t expecting the Neds.” 

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned ‘the Neds,’ Joey.” Huggy sounded confused and almost angry. “What the hell happened in that place? Was Pointerly _there_?”

“Yes, Huggy, he was.” Joey sighed heavily. “And all our plans were nearly ruined.” She reached over and patted his hand. “I’ll tell you, Min, and Gloria everything when we have time.”

Huggy, Minnie and Gloria looked at each other before he smiled at Joey. “As long’s everybody’s okay, we can wait.”

“Thanks, Huggy.” She turned, put her hand on Hutch’s arm, including Starsky in her intent gaze. “It was my hope that you two would go back to work. You’re still the best that Bay City has ever seen. You’ll age now, of course, but you have years of excellent cop work ahead of you. Weather the storm that’s coming, climb proudly above it, and be the first co-chiefs of police in this state’s history.”

Starsky didn’t take his eyes off Joey’s face for a while and everyone waited. Finally, he looked at Hutch, his patented lop-sided grin spreading across his expressive features. “Sounds like a plan to me. Whaddya say, partner?”

Hutch put his arm around Starsky’s shoulders. “A resounding ‘yes’.”

“The Arlington Jewelry heist, Hutch. We gotta get to work!” Starsky was suddenly animated. “I’ll call the captain, let him know we’ll be in tomorrow.” He stopped as doubt clouded his eyes. “What do I tell him? We were following an out-of-town lead?”

“The gems are hidden behind the furnace in the basement of the Union Square Mission.” Joey’s voice was so soft Hutch wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.

Everyone put their cups and glasses down, looked at each other and finally at Joey, who was calmly drinking iced tea. 

Hutch found his voice first. “What did you say?”

She wiped her mouth, a coy smile now on her lips. “Roberts, the other Sunday night watchman, has a brother who recently got out of prison. He was in on the heist and he told Roberts about it. Roberts happens to be an unstoppable talker and he told me. The gang’s waiting to retrieve the loot until the heat dies down.”

Starsky’s grin looked as if it might split his face. “The captain’s never gonna believe we cracked the case on our weekend off!”

Joey’s expression was smug now. “He won’t have a choice once you bring him the swag. I’ll write down Roberts’ brother’s name and any other members of the gang he’s mentioned, before you head back to town.”

Impulsively, Hutch put his hand behind Joey’s neck, pulled her head to him and kissed her full on the mouth. “We love you, Joey!”

Blushing scarlet but unmistakably pleased she sat back in her chair. “You’re welcome.”

*******

Joey came back in the room after paying the bill, closed the partition behind her and sat down. “The management doesn’t really care how long we stay but we need to decide soon where we all go from here.”

Starsky was so jazzed he felt like his blood was boiling. “You’ve had everything figured out up to now, kid. Why not tell us your ideas?”

Huggy refilled her coffee cup. “Go on, honey, hit ‘em with the rest of it.” Giving her a conspiratorial smile Starsky remembered well, he sat back down with his own full cup.

Joey took a few sips before she put the cup down and scanned the faces intently watching her. “Except for the unexpected presence of the Neds, I had things planned meticulously to the point where we all escaped Farpoint and I destroyed it. I know, generally, what I’d like to do now but nothing’s definite.”

“Why not tell us anyway?” Hutch suggested.

Joey picked the cup up again and drank before scanning the eleven clones’ faces. “I think you all should stay here for at least a few days. Talk, make your plans, and then start getting out of town. I can keep you off the cops’ and Feds’ radar because none of the data about your cloning is in the files I’ll be turning over. As far as the authorities are concerned, Pointerly cloned replacements of you only when needed. And since it’s perfectly obvious that the current Starsky and Hutchinson are alive, well, and closing cases, no one will assume there were others waiting in the wings.”

She gestured to everyone else around the table. “None of us is ever going to mention anything about any of you. Rick, the gate guard, is a little bit in love with me and I believe I have bribed him sufficiently that he’ll keep his mouth shut. Therefore, hopefully, your existence will never be known.” She turned thoughtful. “The Feds will have enough to occupy themselves with and the locals will be completely out of their depth.”

“An all-expenses-paid vacation in Baker,” one of the Starskys muttered. “I think I recall something about that.” 

Huggy, Minnie and Gloria, who had no idea what was so funny, were the only ones who didn’t laugh. 

“I need to call my attorney,” Joey continued, “and get him to overnight all the data to Washington immediately. I’ll do that as soon as I’m back in the car. As for the rest of us,” her glance included Huggy, Minnie, Gloria, Ken and Dave, plus Starsky and Hutch, “we should give our statements to the Barstow police.”

“And won’t that be a fun time?” Starsky’s sarcasm kept everyone in a good mood.

“We’ll keep it as short as possible,” Joey said. “Facts and our contact information. I live on the outskirts of Barstow myself and, to a certain extent, they know me. They’ll know where they can reach us, but we won’t be staying. We’re cooperating, telling them what we know, and getting them started on their investigation. If they try to rattle their swords, I’ll play my Attorney General card.” 

Hutch put his cup down. “I’ll tell you right now, if the Feds get there before we can leave, they won’t be satisfied with that.”

“We’ll cross that bridge only when we have to, Hutch, and I’ll stay if absolutely necessary.” Joey folded her hands, resolution in her voice. “But I want the rest of you out of there!”

“Jailbreak!” Starsky wasn’t sure which one of the clones that looked and sounded like him had said it but it eased the sudden tension.

“I’m sure it won’t come to that, guys.” Joey drank more coffee. “Ken and Dave…” Ken was already focused on her but, when she called their names, Dave’s head turned and Starsky could tell the sightless eyes almost bored into hers. She took a quick breath and continued. “I’m going to re-open Farpoint, somewhere in the San Francisco area, and I want you to be my Chiefs of Security.”

“I’m blind, Joey.” Dave’s voice was controlled but everyone could hear the underlying fear.

“It’s not permanent, Dave. I told you that. Please believe me.” Joey looked as if his trust was the most important thing in the world to her at that moment. 

Ken put his hand on top of Dave’s clenched fists and smiled at her. “He does. We do. And we accept.”

Joey released a possibly unconsciously held breath. “Good. Because you’re also going to be fifty percent owners.”

“What?” Ken and Dave said the word at the same time. Ken patted Dave’s hands again and kept going. “You can’t, Joey. We’re only --”

“I hate it when someone tells me I can’t do something!” Joey’s close-to-harsh pronouncement stopped every sound in the room. She stared at Ken until he dropped his eyes before continuing in a much softer tone. “What Farpoint did to you two was unspeakable. That’s over now, thankfully, and I intend to be very generous with reparations. You’ll be half-owners of the company as well as extremely well compensated COSs. What you do with the money is entirely up to you but I also intend to work your asses off!” 

A ripple of laughter circled the table. When Ken looked at her again, her expression softened. “As soon as I settle on a new location, I’m going to need you there, vetting every single person involved in the project. That’ll include the architects we choose, the construction company, their employees and sub-contractors, and everyone who applies for a job. And I do mean every one, from maintenance people right up to whoever I can find to sit on my board of directors.”

Dave was obviously impressed with her verve and commitment. He threw a picture-perfect salute in her direction. “Yes, sir!”

“Excellent!” She finished her coffee and put the cup down. “In the meantime, it’s my hope that Minnie and Huggy,” she included them in her gaze, “will be able to put you up. Fill you in on everything that’s happened and help you get your feet on the ground in this new century.”

Dave shook his head. “ _That_ is what I’m havin’ the most trouble with, Joey.” He looked toward her. “What year it this?”

“Twenty-thirty-three.”

Dave shook his head again, turning toward Ken. “We’re ninety years old, Hutch. _Ninety_!”

Ken pulled Dave to him, ruffling the curly hair. “And here I didn’t think you looked a day over thirty-nine.”

Dave laughed and punched Ken lightly in the chest. Suddenly, he sat up straight, blinking furiously. “Green… your shirt’s green plaid.”

Starsky sucked in a breath, as he heard almost everyone else do, and waited.

Dave blinked again before looking up into Ken’s hopeful eyes. “Your eyes are as blue as a Wyoming sky.”

Ken enfolded Dave in a fierce hug. “How do you know, dummy? You’ve never been to Wyoming.” There were tears in his voice.

“Almost have. We both saw ‘Shane.’ That’s where it was filmed, ya know.”

“I do now.”

Dave sat up again, wiping his own eyes. “You won’t have to babysit me for the rest of your life, Hutch.”

“I wouldn’t have minded, Starsk.” 

Tensions were gone and Starsky felt positively euphoric. 

*******

In the parking lot of Denny’s, with a brilliant sun shining down, the eleven clones thanked Huggy, Minnie and Gloria profusely before taking their leave of Joey. Each one hugged her, thanked her and pledged that anything she should ever ask of any of them would be immediately granted. Two by two, and one threesome, they walked toward the Holiday Inn. 

“Twin o’ mine?” one of the Starskys in the trio said to the other, “we’re gonna have to come up with a story about why our fingerprints don’t match.”

The Hutch put an arm around each of their shoulders. “You’ll think of something.” 

Joey kept her back turned and Hutch knew she was getting her emotions under control. Finally, she turned to the group that was left. “Okay! The call to my attorney first. Then on to Barstow and their cop shop.”

“As soon as we’re outta there why don’t we all go down to our place in Apple Valley for tonight?” Huggy suggested.

“That’s a good idea, Grampa Hug,” Gloria said. “My car’s there and I’ll drive Starsky and Hutch back to town tomorrow.”

“Is it okay if Dave and Ken stay with you?” Joey asked Huggy and Minnie. “I never got the chance to ask politely.”

“‘Course it is, honey.” Huggy put his arms around her and held on tight. “We’ve never even said thank you for everything you did.” He stepped back but kept his hands on her shoulders. “Anything you want, you don’t ever have to ask.”

“I’m grateful, Mr. Brown.” 

“I’d also suggest…” Gloria appraised her grandparents solemnly, “that none of you come down to Bay City for a while. Once Starsky, Hutch and I get back to work, and the shit from all this begins to hit the fan, it’s going to be a madhouse around there.”

“Not to mention,” Hutch chuckled, “what’ll happen when the glamour wears off.”

Knowing looks were exchanged by everyone except one person. Dave had an utterly baffled expression on his face. “Uh… glamour?”

*******

Twenty-thirty-three  
Who knows what world we’ll live in?  
Ask Starsky and Hutch

 

THE END


End file.
